


But the Fire Is so Delightful

by lisainthesky



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Catholicism, Christmas, Dogs, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, MAXIMUM LEVELS OF SELF INDULGENCE, Meet the Family, Online Dating, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Snark, Tattooed Bucky Barnes, Tinder, Wine Mom Sarah, that's kind of a whole mess, this whole fic is a mess probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-22 23:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13177686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisainthesky/pseuds/lisainthesky
Summary: I’m looking for a guy to take home to my parents for xmas and new years. It’s a long story but you MUST be cool with dogs, a week upstate with my family, and willing to answer to the name James. Bonus points if you’re attractive.Bucky:my real name is james, i have a dog that would love a road trip upstate with urs, and im devilishly handsomeBucky:so when do we leave?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i was lamenting the lack of good tinder-hook-up fic with a friend and then........this happened. this is not a tinder-hook-up fic. this is a steve-is-a-mess-and-tinder-makes-it-worse fic.
> 
> oh well
> 
> the rating might change? i don't know yet. sorry. 
> 
> thanks to Carmen and Mab for help with the bad pickup lines and the bad flirting, i love you both
> 
> almost completely unbeta'd because i'm an impatient loser

“What about Tinder?” Steve said. “People find short dates on Tinder all the time.”

“Jesus,” Sam said over the rim of his glass. “Just tell your mom you don’t have a boyfriend! Tinder. Shit.” He finished his drink, shaking his head.

“No,” Steve insisted. “Then I’ll spend all of New Year’s Eve with her foisting every eligible person in a ten-mile radius on me. I can’t do it anymore.”

Sam scoffed. “So you really can’t come up with any other solution than _bring a fake boyfriend home for the holidays.”_

Sam’s cheeks were red, even under the dim lights of the bar, a reflection of the alcohol-fueled heat in Steve’s own face. If they hadn’t had several drinks already, Steve probably wouldn’t have even suggested it, but under the influence of Jack Daniel’s, it seemed like a better option than trying to make small talk while his mother hovered and awkwardly pecking a stranger on the cheek at midnight.

“Well, you already said you wouldn’t pretend to break up with Misty to go with as my date--”

“No, I said I would _absolutely_ never do that--”

“And I can’t tell her I _lied_ to her about having a boyfriend.”

“Why did you lie to her anyway? What could have possibly made that seem like a good idea?”

Steve flagged down the waitress for another round. “The same thing that happens every time I’m single and go home. The same thing that will happen if I’m single for Christmas.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, well then why don’t you just tell her “James” can’t make it? Five months isn’t long enough to bring someone home for Christmas anyway.”

“She thinks it is.” Steve pushed the ice around his empty glass with his straw. “And I think she’s getting suspicious.”

Sam squinted at him. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you dodging your mother’s calls?” he demanded.

Steve winced. “No! I’m just...busy. When she calls.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

“That isn’t the point Sam,” Steve said quickly. “I just need to find a guy who doesn’t have plans and is willing to lie to my family. Tinder is full of people who lie, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Great, the two of you will be a perfect match.”

Steve grinned. “So you’ll help me build a good profile then!”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Steve was already shuffling his stool to Sam’s side of the table and pulling his phone out.

“Fine,” Sam said grudgingly. “But I want another drink.”

* * *

Steve woke up in the morning with horrible cottonmouth and only a vague recollection of how he got home. He was still wearing his t-shirt and boxers. He reached for the glass of water he usually kept on his bedside table, found it empty, and whined, letting his arm fall back to the mattress.

A corner of his phone was sticking out from under his pillow. Steve tugged it out, flipping it over. The screen was unresponsive when he tried to wake it up, and Steve whined again.

Alerted by the noise and the movement, his pitbull Yoshi started to wiggle across the bed and nudge Steve insistently. He turned into her sloppy kisses, and scratched her ears and back until she had wriggled her way onto his chest and rolled onto her back so Steve could scratched her stomach.

Steve laid there for a while, scratching the dog and thinking about the evening. He and Sam had stayed at the bar for a while longer, through several more drinks, working on Steve’s Tinder profile. That must have been what killed his phone. He vaguely remembered a few girls coming up to them with some drinks. Sam had tried to convince Steve to take one of them home to his parents.

Steve grimaced at that. It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked any of the girls, it just seemed beyond awkward to ask someone he’d just met but may actually be interested in to come home with him for Christmas.

He may have gotten a number though. Steve frowned, trying to remember, and finally forced himself to sit up and dig around for his phone charger. Once he was mostly vertical, it seemed a little easier to get up and strip, wriggle into some sweats, feed Yoshi, and get more water. He shivered a little in the kitchen while he flipped on the coffee pot, barefoot on the tile. Snow was drifting down slowly, building up on the windowsills. Steve watched it, glad he didn’t drive, and abruptly remembered Sam completely wiping out on the sidewalk the night before.

Steve chuckled while he poured his coffee and headed back to his room. He climbed back in bed just in time for his phone to wake up. It lit up, chimed, and Steve was just opening his laptop up when a barrage of notifications flooded into the phone. The constant chiming startled Steve and he stared at his phone on his bedside table, afraid to touch it until the noise stopped.

“Okay,” he said when it finally quieted down. “Are you...done?”

The phone didn’t respond, so Steve reached over and picked it up. There were a few texts from Sam, one from Misty, and about 30 from Tinder.

Steve tilted his head and thought back. Apparently he and Sam had not only made Steve’s profile, they had been swiping on people, because there were a dozen notifications telling him he had new matches. The others joyfully exclaimed that he had new messages, followed by little flame emojis.

Fourteen of them were from guys named James.

Steve snorted and unlocked his phone. He took a screenshot of the page with the Tinder icon, a little red bubble with the number 30 attached to it. Then he opened his texts.

The first one from Sam said _I ho me ;)._ The second was a little frowning emoji followed by _woke. Misty up :(:(:(:(:(._ Steve laughed and opened the corresponding text from Misty. It was a picture of Sam, face down on the couch with a blanket over his butt and lower back, his clothes in a pile on the floor.

Giggling, Steve tapped out a reply to her. _Sorry. We had too much fun building me a tinder profile._ He attached the screenshot of his new Tinder notifications. He sent the same image to Sam.

 _It’s been like 9 hours,_ he said. _Don’t people sleep?_

To Steve’s surprise, Sam responded almost immediately. _Nice. Any of them hot?_

_I don’t know yet, but 14 of them are named James._

_Why did we swipe on anyone not named James?_

_The same reason you fell asleep naked on your couch?_

_Fair._

Steve opened Tinder and swiped to his own profile. He had no recollection of what pictures they had chosen, or what they had put in his bio, but it had to be the reason he had fourteen matches named James.

There were four pictures. The first one was from the summer before, some action shot that Sharon had taken at the beach of Steve kicking a soccer ball across the sand. His face wasn’t totally visible since the shot caught most of his body and he was wearing sunglasses, but he was shirtless and sweaty from running around in the sun. Steve was pretty sure that had been Sam’s idea.

The next one was Steve in a bar, red faced and probably sloshed, with his arm around Sam, both of them laughing hysterically. It was anyone’s guess when that had been taken or which of them had decided they should use it, but Steve liked it.

The third showed Steve at Halloween, dressed as Mario and kneeling with his arms around Yoshi in a doggie Yoshi outfit. She was licking his face, and Steve was certain he had picked that one out.

The last one was a picture of Steve standing with a painting that he had sold in a gallery the year before, his arm around a scribbled splotch on the screen. Steve grimaced at it. He looked great in his suit, and it had been a great night for him, but Steve could still distinctly remember Brock reaching down to grab his ass when they had taken that photo, about three weeks before Steve found out about all of Brock’s side-pieces. It sort of soured the whole thing. At least Steve looked good in his suit, and thinking about Sam drunkenly scribbling Brock’s face out, business-as-usual, brought his smile back.

He scrolled down a little and gave a startled laugh when he found that they had set his anthem to “Gold Trans Am” by Kesha. He hit play, since it was going to be stuck in his head for the next three days anyway, and decided to leave it, moving on to his bio.

_I’m looking for a guy to take home to my parents for xmas and new years. It’s a long story but you MUST be cool with dogs, a week with my family upstate, and willing to answer to the name James. Bonus points if you’re attractive._

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mumbled. How long had they worked on that? He couldn’t remember, and it could either have been a spur of the moment drunk decision - like the whole plan - or it could have taken them all night. The spelling alone probably took an hour.

In the light of day, the whole plan was just as absurd as Sam had thought it was when Steve had suggested it. He almost scratched the whole thing, but he had already gotten this far, and apparently there were 17 people who were willing to lie to his family (or hadn’t read his bio, which was just as possible), and it wasn’t like he _had_ to take any of them.

Steeling himself, Steve swiped over to the messages page. He didn’t bother to go through the list of new matches at the top, just read through the messages one by one.

The first six James’ had just gone with some variation of “hi.” Steve tapped out short hellos in reply, not expecting much.

One said, “Hey gorgeous” followed by a winky-face and a sweatdrop emoji. Steve wrinkled his nose and ignored it.

Another had just sent several eggplant emojis. Steve sighed.

He was a little disappointed. Where were all the bad puns and awful lines? Wasn’t that what Tinder was famous for?

Somewhere around James #9, his wishes were fulfilled.

 **James:** I wrote you a poem

 **James:** Ready?

 **James:** Roses are red

 **James:** Violets are weird

 **James:** I think you’re cute

 **James:** Come sit on my beard?

Steve snorted, even though it was really stupid. “Jesus,” he muttered, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. He backed out but didn’t unmatch the guy.

The next few were all normal hello’s until he got to the very last James.

 **James:** Have you worshipped at the shrine of avocado recently?

Steve stared, mouth dropped open slightly. Had he _what?_ What the fuck did that even mean? He tried to scroll up, to refresh or see if he had missed a first message, but there was nothing. Just the shrine of avocado.

It was probably supposed to be a joke. Some kind of avocado-toast thing maybe. It was almost funny. Steve tried to laugh, but the more he thought about it the weirder it got and after a minute of staring, he unmatched the guy with a grimace. It may have been a joke, but it was just a little too weird, and Steve didn’t want to find out where that conversation would go if it _wasn’t_ a joke.

Having run out of guys who were actually named James, Steve tapped on the first unread message he saw.

 **Lance:** My dick just died. Can i bury it in your ass at the funeral tonight?

“Of course your name is _Lance,”_ Steve said. Yoshi blinked up at him. “Why is the world like this?” Steve asked her, and scratched her ears while he unmatched the guy.

That was almost enough to make him quit, but he scrolled through a little more instead, finally opening a message from Will. Will wasn’t an asshole name, right?

 **Will:** So my name isn’t James, and I’m not free for Christmas or New Years, but I love your Halloween costumes :)

“Oh,” Steve said. “See, Yosh, I knew I should have put you as the first picture. Dog barometer, never fails.”

He opened Will’s profile to flip through his pictures. He was cute, light brown hair and grey eyes, a sweet smile. He had two pictures with a brindle Corgi, and one with two women. One was probably his mom, but the other was in a bridal dress. Probably his sister. A little weird, Steve thought, but kind of sweet, maybe.

_My dog’s name is Mikey and we both love pizza and beer. I’m not sure what I’m looking for - let’s chat and find out!_

Not exactly the most thrilling bio, but Steve could get behind the idea. It wasn’t like he was always looking for a random guy to lie to his family. This guy couldn’t go anyway, so Steve shrugged and flipped back to the message.

 **Me:** Thanks! I’m lucky Yoshi puts up with so much from me.

With slightly more hope, Steve flipped back to his messages. The next one down was from a guy named Bucky. Steve squinted. It sounded like a stripper name, but he opened the message anyway. At least if it was a stripper or a bot he could delete it from his inbox.

 **Bucky:** my real name is james, i have a dog that would love a road trip upstate with urs, and im devilishly handsome

 **Bucky:** so when do we leave?

Steve laughed, but a little part of him admired the audacity. He tapped on Bucky’s name and the profile opened to a black and white photo that looked almost professional. Bucky was leaning against the hood of some kind of classic car, head bowed to his hands as he light a cigarette. He was wearing a leather jacket and his dark hair was all slicked back, jeans cuffed. It was obviously for some kind of photoshoot, but it was a nice photo.

Steve flicked to the next one. Bucky was dancing with a woman with bright red hair, their bodies twined together from ankle to shoulder as Bucky dipped her backwards. Steve could see the edge of a number card pinned to the back of Bucky’s shirt, so it was probably some kind of dance competition. Impressive.

The next was finally a good picture of his face, saluting the camera with a beer in one hand. The other arm was holding him up on the side of a pool, his hair pushed out of his face to above a wide smile. He _was_ handsome, Steve had to admit, and it wasn’t a bad view of his arms and shoulders either.

The last picture was Bucky asleep on, an enormous brown and black dog asleep on top of him. He had both arms wrapped around the dog and its nose tucked under his chin and Bucky’s mouth was slightly open in his sleep. He looked really stupid, and also really cute. Steve scowled.

The bio underneath the pictures read _actually, i WILL do that_. Steve stared at it in confusion until he saw Bucky’s anthem below. “I’d Do Anything For Love.” Steve actually laughed, wondering how well that joke went over with people whose fathers hadn’t raised them on a steady diet of 80’s power ballads.

“Okay, _Bucky,”_ he said. “You don’t seem like a bot.” He flipped back to Bucky’s message. “And I guess you really will do anything.”

He considered sending exactly that, was halfway through typing it in, then decided it was too dorky. In fairness, Bucky was the one who put the song on there but...still. Steve deleted it, frowning. He wanted to ask about the dog, but it seemed weird to just jump straight to that and ignore Bucky’s boldness. There was probably a good, flirty joke about Bucky asking when they were leaving.

Steve frowned at his phone, trying to think of a good comeback, and wondering why he was so worked up about this. Maybe it was exactly that Bucky had been so bold. It had been easy with Will, but Will had talked about his dog and seemed...pretty average. Bucky apparently did ballroom dancing competitions and modeled for photoshoots and was actually very handsome on top of being bold to the point of cockiness.

Steve might have had a type, which was probably exactly why he shouldn’t bring Bucky home with him for a week.

 **Me:** Idk, “Bucky” definitely sounds like a fake name, and I don’t know how you got that from “James”

He sent the message before he could think about it anymore, feeling ridiculous. It wasn’t like Bucky had even said anything particularly clever. He was just good looking and cocky. So what?

To Steve’s surprise, Bucky responded before he could even flip back to his inbox.

 **Bucky:** my middle name is buchanan, bucky is a nickname

Steve glanced up at the time stamp on Bucky’s first messages. 4:47 AM. It was barely 10. Did Bucky even sleep?

 **Me:** Seriously?

 **Me:** Your name is James Buchanan?

 **Bucky:** ya

 **Me:** That’s honestly less believable than that you just have a stripper name

Steve hit send and grimaced at his phone. That may have been overstepping it. This guy probably had a good sense of humor, right?

 **Bucky:** RUDE!!

 **Bucky:** fuckin stripper name looooool

 **Bucky:** gimme ur phone number, i’ll prove it to u!

Steve raised his eyebrows.

 **Me:** How do I know you’re not going to use it to steal my identity?

 **Bucky:** uhhh i’m an engineer for the biggest tech firm in the country

 **Bucky:** full offense, i don’t need to steal ur identity

Steve let out a startled laugh. He flipped back to Bucky’s profile and looked at the details he had ignored before. Bucky was seven miles away, and, sure enough, his employment was listed as Stark Enterprises. Which could have been a lie. Steve thought for a moment, then returned to the message.

 **Me:** How about Snapchat?

 **Bucky:** presidentjbb

Steve laughed. “You gotta be kidding me.”

 **Me:** Wooooow

 **Me:** Committed

 **Me:** Fine, I’m adding you.

Steve pulled up Snapchat, shaking his head, and typed in the username. He was slightly surprised to get a result, and more so when it said the name Bucky on it. He hit the “add friend” button and waited.

A minute or two later, the chat screen informed him that Bucky had added him back, and then a snap came in. It was a picture of Bucky, holding up his middle finger, with the caption, “that’s for saying i have a stripper name.”

Steve laughed and hit the reply button. He tilted his head and shrugged and snapped a picture of his unrepentant face. “I still don’t see any proof though.”

Another minute passed before he got another snap. This one was of Bucky’s driver’s license, most of the information scribbled over with the pen. His face was visible though, as was the name B------, JAMES BUCHANAN.

The caption read, “boom! eat it nerd.” Steve snorted.

 **Bucky:** okay

 **Bucky:** so now that uve seen my drivers license

 **Bucky:** confirmted that i do not have a stripper name

 **Bucky:** when do i pick u up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're a fan of shitposts and fantasy and stuff, i'm on [tumblr](http://lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update!!!! this is probably more words than i've written in the last six months combined
> 
> full disclosure: i am not jewish or catholic. steve and bucky's views on/relationships with religion are based on jewish and catholic people i know, and do not by any means represent all jewish or catholic people
> 
> also, all of bucky's typos are deliberate in that if i made a typo while writing his texts, i left it there. #aesthetic

“Are you insane??” Sam shouted as soon as Steve answered his Facetime call. “Steve, he could be a serial killer! You could be bringing a serial killer home to your parents!”

“Really, Sam?” Steve paused his sketch to give his phone, propped up against his coffee mug, a very skeptical look. “You’re dating a cop, you know the odds of that are super low. Probably.”

_“Probably?_ You’re willing to risk your parents’ lives on _probably?_ Do you realize how insane you sound right now?”

“Come on, Sam. Do you really think a serial killer is going to put this much effort into finding someone to kill? Especially on Tinder, when there are like, a million easier targets?”

“I don’t know, man, maybe that’s all part of his thing. Like, he gets off on playing house or whatever and he’s gonna tie you all up and torture you before he kills you.”

“He’s going to hold my entire extended family hostage all week?”

Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He opened them to glare at Steve, who gave him a toothy grin.

“Steve. Seriously. You know this is crazy, right?”

Steve set his pencil down and leaned in closer to the phone.

“Yeah, Sam, I know. It’s very weird. But I really don’t think this guy is gonna hurt anyone. What kind of serial killer does ballroom dancing?”

Sam sighed. “Fine. I want to be there when you meet him.”

“Deal. He’s picking me up around noon on the twenty-third.”

“You’re driving up there with him without meeting him first??”

* * *

_December 21, 12:41 PM_

**Me:** I need your last name.

**Bucky:** uhh why

**Me:** My friend is a cop and she wants to run a background check on you before they’ll let me get in your car for a drive upstate

**Me:** Also, I think if we’re going to pretend to be dating, there should be a little more trust

**Me:** Also also I should probably know your last name when I introduce you to my parents??

**Bucky:** lol

**Bucky:** how do i kno ur not tryan steal MY identity now??

**Me:** There are way easier ways to steal someone’s identity than this

**Me:** Full offense, you aren’t rich enough to make a con this complicated worth it

**Bucky:** HAHA

**Bucky:** touche

**Bucky:** fine, i’ll give u my last name if u give me ur phone number

* * *

When Steve pulled himself away from work that afternoon, he had a Snapchat video waiting for him from Bucky. He opened it, figuring it was probably more abuse.

Instead, it was a field, covered in snow that had been turned up by several trails of footprints. The camera spun across the big white expanse slowly, stopping on a group dogs romping in the distance.

Behind the camera, Bucky whistled one sharp note. One of the dogs broke away from the group almost immediately and sped towards him, a black spot streaking over the snow. She almost slid straight into Bucky’s legs, then danced around at his feet, panting happily and grinning up at him.

Bucky chuckled, leaning down to her. “Hi baby,” he said. Even cooing gently at his dog, his voice was deep and rough in a way that made Steve’s stomach twist.

Then Bucky got with in licking distance and the dog went straight for his face. He yelped and the camera shook and spun wildly for a moment, and the video abruptly ended. Steve laughed and looked around for Yoshi. It was just about time for a walk, and sure enough, she was sitting by the door, waiting for him. He smiled and sent Bucky a picture of her, captioned, “I love her already and so will Yoshi.”

* * *

_December 21, 5:17 PM_

**Will:** When do you head upstate?

**Me:** We’re leaving on the 23

**Will:** So you found someone to go with you?

_5:56 PM_

**Me:** Yeah, I met a guy here and he’s going to cover for me.

**Will:** Haha that’s crazy

**Will:** So what is the story behind this?

**Me:** My mom was trying to set me up with every eligible person in town at the 4th of July bbq

**Me:** I got tired of it and so I told her that I had a met a guy named James recently

**Me:** It got her to stop but by the time Thanksgiving rolled around she wanted to meet him, and I had already told her things were still going well so I would bring him home for xmas

**Me:** And telling her he broke up with me right before xmas would just make her (and the rest of my family) go crazy

**Will:** Haha

**Will:** Wild

* * *

_December 22, 9:17 AM_

**Me:** Are you vegetarian/vegan? I’m trying to convince my mom that it’s not necessary to make an entire fourth meal with no meat.

**Bucky:** lol not vegan, just kosher

Steve blinked at his phone until it went to sleep. Given Bucky’s sense of humor, it was possible he was joking, but Steve couldn’t tell, and this was probably something he should know.

**Me:** You’re Jewish?

**Bucky:** lol why do u think i have no plans on xmas but still have the whole week off

**Bucky:** is that a problem?

**Me:** No! Of course not

**Me:** Uncle Albert might have something to say about it, but he’ll have plenty more to say about the fact that you’re a guy and we don’t listen to Uncle Albert anyway ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Me:** But we are Catholic

**Bucky:** lol yikes @ uncle al

**Bucky:** how catholic?

**Me:** Personally, it’s more out of habit. I go to Midnight Mass with them but I don’t think I’ve gone to confession since I was confirmed. Haven’t actually gone to mass alone since I moved out

**Me:** My parents won’t be offended if you don’t want to go to mass with us

**Bucky:** i’m basically the same. never did xmas as a kid and don’t like pork cuz i never ate it

**Bucky:** mostly only do the religious stuff when i visit my parents so i get u

**Me:** Okay well we can tell them whatever you’re comfortable with

**Bucky:** eh, whatever

**Bucky:** already lying to them about everything else lol

**Me:** Not EVERYTHING

**Me:** I tell them I’m probably not going every time my dad suggests a church nearby

* * *

“This is insane, you know that, right?” Sam said. It was mostly directed at Yoshi while he scratched her belly, and it wasn’t nearly as effective in the baby voice.

“Yeah, Sam, I know,” Steve said. He didn’t even look away from the bags by the door, double checking that he had everything he would want for the week. His gifts for his family - and Bucky - were all piled in a box, he had all of his clothes and several coats for Yoshi in a small suitcase, plus a bag of snacks for people and dogs. It was only about three or four hours to his parents’ house, but Steve hated stopping for food, and he didn’t want to leave anything that would go off while he was gone.

“Misty, tell Steve this is a bad idea,” Sam said, still cooing at the dog.

Misty hid her laughter in her mug of coffee. “You talking to me or the dog?” she asked, shaking her head at Sam. “I don’t know, all the info on him checked out, he really does work where he says he does and he doesn’t have a record.” She ignored Sam’s scowl in favor of raising her eyebrows at Steve. “I’m more concerned with how you think a week of pretending this guy is your boyfriend isn’t going to be awkward as hell. And with you bringing someone who is so your type.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her. “He is _not_ my type. He’s an asshole.”

Misty snorted. “Because Brock was such a ray of sun.”

“And Tony,” Sam put in.

“Peggy was nice,” Steve said.

“Peggy had the same weird sense of humor you do and was twice as bullheaded,” Sam said. “She was great, but I don’t know if _nice_ is the word I would use.”

“Well, I’m talking to Will too, he’s nice.”

“Nice and boring,” Misty said.

“He’s not boring!”

“All of his messages start with _haha_ ,” Sam said. “He put _I don’t know what I’m looking for_ in his Tinder bio.”

“...He has a Corgi?” Steve offered. Both of them raised an eyebrow at him. Steve threw his hands up. “Well, either I’m talking to an asshole, or I’m talking to Wonder Bread, so I don’t know what you guys want from me, but it’s too late because Bucky will be here any minute.”

“Fine,” Misty said. “But if we get up there for the New Year’s Eve party and you’re making goo-goo eyes at Bucky, I will absolutely hold it over you for the rest of forever.”

“And if he’s killed your whole family, I will find you in the afterlife and beat the shit out of you,” Sam said.

“Duly noted.” Steve saluted them both, then opened the door to look outside, just in time for a shiny black muscle car with silver stripes to pull up to the curb. There was a dog in the passenger seat, and when Bucky killed the engine and stepped out, Steve realized it was the car in one of his Tinder photos.

“That’s your car in that picture on Tinder?” He asked, stepping onto the porch before Yoshi could squeeze through his legs.

“Yep,” Bucky said. He came around to the passenger side and opened the door, clipping a leash to the dog before letting her out. “My grandpa’s. We restored it together, and he left it to me when he died. Her name is Lady. And this is Lana.” He pushed open the gate as Misty and Sam slipped out onto the porch behind Steve.

“Hi, Lana,” Steve said, coming down to meet her. He offered her a hand to sniff, and when she wagged her tail and nosed his fingers, he knelt to scratch her. “Hi, Bucky,” Steve added, looking up at him.

Bucky smiled. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Misty,” Sam said from the porch, loudly.

“Hi, Sam,” Misty said.

Steve rolled his eyes and straightened up. “Bucky, this is Sam, my best friend, and Misty, my other friend and also Sam’s girlfriend. Sam, Misty...this is Bucky.”

He turned to look at Bucky as Sam and Misty shook his hand. He was...bigger in person, the breadth of his shoulders and torso more obvious, his jeans clinging to his thighs and calves. He was wearing a burgundy henley under a leather bomber jacket, and it showed off his chest a little too well. His hair was pulled into a little ponytail, showing off his neat stubble and sharp cheekbones and Steve wanted to run his fingers and lips over that jawline.

Steve was fucked.

“Well, I should let Yoshi meet Lana,” Steve said, a little too loudly.

“Great,” Bucky said. “I’ll let her off the leash?”

Steve just nodded. Misty caught his eye as he turned to the door and smirked. Sam was biting his lip and looking at the ground. Steve ignored them but could feel his cheeks getting warm.

Yoshi and Lana circled each other carefully a few times, sniffing and touching noses before Yoshi gave a happy bark and flopped into a play gesture. Lana did the same, and after that both dogs were off jumping through the snow in Steve’s little yard, nipping and growling playfully.

“Great,” Bucky said, smiling at them. “Even better than I expected.”

“Same here,” Steve said.

“Good thing I put the blanket down in the backseat for them,” Bucky added. “Wanna load up your stuff?”

Sam followed Steve in to help him with his stuff while Misty helped Bucky get the dogs in the car.

“Well, I see why you decided to take him,” Sam said.

“Oh, _now_ you’re behind the whole thing,” Steve grumbled. “Shut up, leave me alone.”

Sam laughed at him. He and Misty were still grinning triumphantly when they hugged Steve goodbye, wishing him a Merry Christmas and reminding him they would be there for the New Year’s party. Steve deliberately stepped on Sam’s foot and promised himself he was not going to fall for Bucky in the next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speaking of aesthetic, maybe i should make a post for [tumblr](http://lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A roadtrip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who doesn't live in new york and is mostly guessing on all geography!!!
> 
> i am straight up dying reading all of your comments and love. DYING. you're too sweet, its killing me! hhfjjkdsl i'm so glad you're all having as much fun as i am with this <3

“So,” Bucky said as they finally left the city an hour later. “I guess we should probably learn some things about each other before we get up there, huh?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Steve said lightly. “I was thinking maybe I could just make up a whole new personality for you.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Bucky played along, his tone mock-serious. “The one I’ve got now is just no good.”

“That’s what I was thinking. You’re kind of an asshole.”

“Well,” Bucky said, giving Steve a sly look. “According to your friend Misty, that makes me exactly your type.”

Steve sputtered. “How did she have time to tell you anything? We were just grabbing my stuff!”

“It was more like threatening than telling me anything,” Bucky said. “I believe her exact words were, ‘Steve has dated plenty of guys just like you before and if you use this week to fuck him over like any of them, I will make your life hell.’” He paused, considering. “I’m not usually easy to intimidate, but she said it in the same tone of voice my friend Natasha uses when she threatens to crash my car, so I believe her.”

Steve buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s alright,” Bucky said. “It’s nice to have friends who look out for you like that.”

Steve sat back with a deep sigh, then pulled his phone out. “One second, I gotta tell Misty I’m never speaking to her again.”

Bucky laughed but let Steve send his angry text, only speaking again once Steve had stuffed his phone into his backpack with a huff.

“They’re overprotective,” he grumbled.

“Well, you did advertise for a fake boyfriend on Tinder,” Bucky said.

“Not you, too.” Steve scowled at him.

“Hey, not taking their side,” Bucky said. He uncurled his fingers from the wheel briefly and shrugged. “Just saying the might have a good reason.”

Steve slouched back in his seat. The leather was in almost pristine condition, probably thanks to the fur-covered seat cover Bucky had pulled off before Steve sat down. The whole car was in incredible shape, actually. Not surprising, Steve supposed, for a car called _Lady_.

“Why _did_ you decide to advertise on Tinder, anyway?” Bucky asked after a moment of silence.

Steve sighed. “I guess probably the same reason Sam and Misty are being like this. I was visiting my parents over the summer and my mom was trying to hook me up with every eligible person at the Fourth of July barbecue. It was annoying and I didn’t want to meet anyone, so I told her I had met someone recently but we were taking things slow. It seemed like a good idea to keep it up until she started pressuring me to bring him home for Christmas.”

“After five months?” Bucky asked, laughing.

“I know, she’s crazy.” Steve rolled his eyes fondly, then looked at Bucky. “So why’d you say yes?”

“What?”

“What made you decide to spend a week upstate pretending to be a stranger’s boyfriend?”

Bucky laughed, and shrugged. “Well I got the week off if I wanted it anyway, paid, and it was a week of free food. And...it sounded like fun, I guess.” He paused and glanced at Steve. “Besides, have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Steve scoffed, but felt his cheeks warming up anyway. A terrible line, but it was still working for some reason. Bucky grinned like he knew.

“So we’ve been together five months?” Bucky asked.

“Give or take,” Steve said. “I guess we became official after the Fourth, so...we met on the twentieth of December, so let’s say it was the twentieth of July, too.”

“Great. How did we meet?”

Steve shrugged, then glanced at the back seat. “Dog park?”

Bucky nodded. “And I wined and dined you, proper and fancy, for our first date.”

“Oh, really?”

“Of course.” Bucky threw him a smirk. “That’s why you fell into bed with me so quickly. I mean, besides my looks.”

Steve laughed. “That is the opposite of taking it slow!”

Bucky was grinning. “C’mon, Steve, this is the twenty-first century. Telling your parents you’re taking it slow with someone just means you’re fucking but haven’t made any commitments yet.”

“Do I really look like someone who puts out on the first date?” Steve wondered, still laughing.

“Could you really resist aaaaall of this for any longer?” Bucky gestured to the car and himself, throwing Steve a wink.

“Easily,” Steve said, turning up his nose. “Just like I’m going to all week.”

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky said. “You think I’ve been charming and irresistible up to now?”

“No.”

“Just you wai--hey!” Bucky glared, then reached over to poke Steve in the side. Steve squeaked and jerked away, batting at his hand.

“Stop! Two hands on the wheel!”

Bucky relented with a triumphant grin. “You’re ticklish, that’s great news.”

Steve glared, arms wrapped tightly around his ribs. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“A jerk?” Bucky asked. “I don’t think anyone has called me a jerk since like...sixth grade.”

“I’ve got some other zingers, so you better watch it, butthead” Steve told him.

Bucky laughed. “Easy killer.”

They settled down and were quiet for a few minutes, and then Bucky said, “How affectionate are we?”

“What?”

“I mean, five months, that’s not exactly honeymoon period anymore, but I’m a pretty affectionate guy, physically. How do you wanna play it around your family?”

“Oh.” Steve frowned, thinking about all of Brock’s excessive PDA. He liked to be affectionate, but he also like to keep things mostly appropriate, especially around his parents.

“Well, I’m affectionate too, to a certain extent. In public, anyway. Tons of PDA around my family is just...awkward.”

“Agreed,” Bucky said. He was quiet for another minute, and then he said, a little too loudly, “Can I hold your hand?”

Steve stared at him. “Huh?”

“I mean, if we’ve been together for five months, we can’t be flinching every time we reach for each other, or forgetting to touch at all. Starting out with holding hands in the car seems smart. You know like - like a couple.”

He wasn’t looking at Steve, but Steve didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was uncomfortable. Steve wasn’t uncomfortable, not really. It was just hand-holding. Easy, normal couple stuff. It wasn’t like Bucky was suggesting they pull over and make out. Steve kind of wanted to hold Bucky’s hand, if he was being honest, which made him think maybe he shouldn’t do it.

It was just hands. They were going to have to pretend to date for a week.

“Yeah, okay.”

Steve reached his hand out across the gear shift and Bucky looked at it for only a moment, startled, before he took his own hand off the wheel. He kept his eyes on the road, mostly, so Steve took his hand. It was warm, calloused, gentle when Bucky twined their fingers together. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then pushed until they were resting on the seat, pressed against Steve’s leg.

“See?” Bucky said. “Easy. Look at how cute we are.”

Steve snorted. It was nice, actually, to hold someone’s hand. He stared at Bucky’s tan fingers against the back of Steve’s freckled hand. His nails were broad and flat, cut short and a little banged up around the edges. He was wearing a couple rings, one on his index finger and another on his ring finger. Steve had noticed them when Bucky had lifted his hands from the wheel, but now he could lift Bucky’s hand up and look closely at them.

One was a simple silver band with a red stripe along the middle. The other…

“Is this Aragorn’s ring?” Steve asked, looking from the twined, green-eyed snakes and their golden flower wreath to Bucky.

“Good eye,” Bucky said. He was blushing a little.

Steve laughed, delighted. “You’re a _nerd._ I knew all that cool was just a front.”

“Hey!” Bucky said, indignant. “You recognized it! It’s not even a movie replica. Who’s the nerd now?”

“That’s even more nerdy! That means you got it custom made!”

Bucky sputtered for a moment. “I take it back, I don’t want to hold your hand,” he said finally, but he didn’t let go.

Steve giggled to himself and settled their hands back on the seat. “Which hobbit is your favorite?”

“Uhh, all of them?”

They talked about books and movies and hobbies for the next few hours, still holding hands except when Bucky had to change gears. It was surprisingly easy - they had a lot of the same nerdy interests, and there was no prying. Like he had when Steve was embarrassed by his overprotective friends, Bucky made it easy to change the subject if anything got too awkward for either of them.

And he was funny. His sense of humor didn’t just run towards cocky jokes and making fun of people, although that was a large part of it. He was sarcastic and witty, and he could keep up with the occasionally off the wall things Steve could come up with. Brock had always just looked at him like he was crazy. Bucky had quite an imagination of his own, building on Steve’s wild predictions of how the world would end or why geese were Like That.

Steve said as much, and Bucky laughed.

“Don’t sound so surprised, jeez. Engineers aren’t all graph paper and step by step instructions, you know. I’m in R&D, I have to be creative, otherwise what’s the point?”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

“I have a minor in drawing, actually.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Bucky said, grinning. “Part of my curriculum included some art classes - engineering is a lot of drafting ideas before you get to actually build anything. And artists are hot--” He winked at Steve, who blushed, “So I liked the department. Never met anyone I fell in love with, but I did with the art a little bit. It was a nice change of pace from all the math. Relaxing.”

“Try making a living doing it.”

“I didn’t say it was easy!”

Steve huffed. “Okay, you dance, you draw, you fix classic cars - is there anything you can’t do?”

“Of course not,” Bucky declared. Steve pinched the back of his hand. “Ow! Okay, jeez. Uh...I can’t cook.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I don’t burn toast or anything, but I’m detail oriented and cooking is just so...hand-wavey. Season to taste, it’s done when it’s done, people making stuff up as they go along.”

“Isn’t that what you do when you design things?” Steve asked.

“No! I have rules I have to follow, like physics and math and all kinds of stuff. I watch _Chopped_ and they’re just like ‘sure, I can make asparagus sorbet, who cares if this asparagus is brown and sweaty!’ It's insane.”

Steve was laughing. “Okay, we’re definitely keeping you out of the kitchen for the week.”

They stopped in Albany for gas. Steve walked the dogs around the parking lot to do their business while Bucky went inside to pay. They jumped around and ate snow and wiggled into Bucky’s legs when they returned to the car. He smiled and helped Steve get them into the car, then shut the door and put his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“This alright?” Bucky asked. Steve suppressed a shiver at that low, rough voice right in his ear.

“Yeah,” he said, and swallowed. “It’s cold.”

He tucked himself closer into Bucky’s side before he could overthink it. After a moment, Bucky’s arm tightened. He was warm and solid, his arm heavy across Steve’s shoulders. Steve sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to enjoy it too much.

They broke apart when the gas pump clicked off, smiling awkwardly.

“I’m gonna grab the receipt,” Bucky said. “You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m okay. Thanks.”

Steve got into the car and resolutely did not check out Bucky’s ass as he went into the building.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he told the dogs, half-turning. Yoshi barked and licked his face. Steve sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steve: gotta fool mom!!!!  
> bucky: i am here for #adventure (and the hot guy)
> 
> i work with a bunch of engineers and bucky's whole thing about drawing is ripped directly from a conversation i had with one of them


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the parents!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! the new term has started this week and next week i will be starting a play so you may have to wait a while for an update again. thank you for hanging in with me :') hopefully, i can get this done before it's completely out of season lmao
> 
> also lana, yoshi, jameson, and jackie (yes both of them are named after whiskey lol) are all both fictional and exceptionally good natured dogs. i don't really recommend introducing dogs off leash and all hyped up like this, but didn't feel like writing anything extremely realistic and complex
> 
> unbeta'd again because i'm a dumpster fire :)

The snow was piled high on the sides of the long driveway up to Steve’s parent’s house, but the path itself had been plowed and sanded that day. The trees were covered in snow, the branches drooping slightly and blocking the last rays of sun. Yoshi had started whining and trying to climb into Steve’s lap when they were about a mile from the turn off. It had gotten Lana worked up as well, and Steve had his hands full for the last few minutes of the ride trying to corral both of them while directing Bucky.

They finally pulled around the last bend in the driveway and the trees cleared to the yard and house. Bucky whistled lowly. Yoshi yipped.

“Damn,” Bucky said. “You said upstate and I was expecting like...a cute little cottage in the burbs, not a fuckin’ mansion.”

Steve shrugged. It was always a little awkward to bring people here and watch them add the money in Steve’s family into their knowledge of him, watch them shift it around and change the way they thought of him. He knew he was incredibly lucky and it wasn’t like he was at any disadvantage for it. It was just weird. 

“Didn’t you say you were born in Brooklyn?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Lived there till I was 10 or so, then my parents decided they wanted to get out of the city.”

“Well, that worked,” Bucky said. He pulled up in front of the garage and killed the engine, then turned to look at Steve. The dogs were both scrambling around each other in the back, whining, but Bucky just sat, smiling a little at Steve.

“You ready?” He asked.

Steve took a deep breath and looked at the house. “Think so. You?”

“Yeah.” Bucky’s warm rough hand covered Steve’s. “It’ll be fine. They’ll love me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Totally,” Bucky said. “I went to Stanford and I bring nice wine and those awesome cheese and fruit plates for gifts. Parents love me.”

“You brought them a gift?” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Of course I did,” Bucky said. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “You didn’t seem that thoughtful over text.” He grinned when he said it so Bucky knew he was joking.

“Hey!” Bucky pinched his finger. “I’m super thoughtful, I got you a present too! Two presents, actually, but one of them is socks so it only kinda counts, according to my friend Clint.”

“Socks totally count, they’re just the most adult-gift you could want or give,” Steve said.

“Well,” Bucky sniffed. “That’s because I’m super adult-y.”

Steve laughed, feeling some of tension he hadn’t really acknowledged release from under his lungs. They could totally do this. 

“Alright,” he said, and opened his door. “Let’s go.”

The dogs sprang out of the car as soon as Steve leaned his seat forward for them. Yoshi went straight for the front door, scrambling up the porch steps. Lana sniffed around the garage and the car, staying closer and whining when Yoshi’s presence set Jameson and Jackie - Steve’s parents’ golden retrievers - to barking inside. 

“It’s okay, honey,” Bucky said to her, scratching her ears as he opened the trunk. “They’re nice, you’ll all get along fine.”

Steve smiled, moving past Bucky to grab his bags and box of presents. The front door of the house opened, and the noise on the porch went up as both retrievers came barrelling out and they and Yoshi scrambled around each other, getting reacquainted.

“Hi, honey!” Steve’s mom came to the edge of the porch and waved. “Hurry, you’re letting the cold in!”

Steve waited for Bucky and Lana, then led the way to the house. 

“Oh, look at you.” Sarah had to go up on tiptoes to kiss Steve’s cheek. “You will give me a proper hug once you’ve put that down,” she added sternly.

“Of course, Ma,” Steve said, smiling. 

Lana nosed her way forward, and Sarah knelt. “Hello, beautiful,” she said, holding a hand out for her to sniff. “Would you like to meet the boys?” She turned and called, “Jameson! Jackie! Sit down, you monsters.”

Both dogs came over happily, and Sarah caught them before they could go straight to Lana. Bucky knelt and scratched her, holding a hand out to Jameson.

“It’s okay, honey,” he said. “I know, it’s a lot for one day. You’re okay.”

Slowly, the dogs approached each other, sniffing and circling. Lana snapped once at Jackie - the younger of the two - when he got too close too quick. He backed up, then pushed in again slower. 

“Think we’ll be okay,” Sarah said, smiling. “Okay, everyone in.” The dogs ran ahead and into the living room, Yoshi following them. Lana looked at Bucky until he jerked his head at her, and she trotted off after the others.

Steve set his box down once they were all in with the door closed, then turned to his mother and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Hi, Ma,” he said.

“Hello, sunshine boy,” she said, just as quietly. 

“Missed you,” Steve said, and pulled back. “Ma, this is my boyfriend, Bucky. Bucky, this is my mom, Sarah.”

“I thought you said his name was James?” She said, tilting her head.

“Bucky is a nickname,” Steve said, hoping she couldn’t tell how fast his heart was suddenly beating. “His middle name is Buchanan.”

“Oh,” Sarah said.

“But I couldn’t really tell you I was dating a guy named Bucky.” Steve forced himself not to wince at his own words. Why was he still talking? “I mean, that sounds like a fake name, right? You'd think I made him up.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” Bucky said sarcastically, and stepped on Steve’s foot as he shifted forward to offer Sarah his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rogers. You have a beautiful house, and dogs.”

Sarah ignored his hand in favor of opening her arms. “I’m a hugger, if that’s okay,” she said.

Bucky’s smile widened and he stepped into the hug. “Perfectly okay,” he said.

Sarah hugged him as tightly as she would anyone else, then stepped back. “Call me Sarah,” she said, resting a hand on his cheek to look at him. 

“But I was so looking forward to Mr. and Mrs. Rogers,” Bucky said.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Not very original, but he is a looker, isn’t he?” She said to Steve.

_ “Mom!” _ Steve said, mortified.

Bucky just threw his head back and laughed. “Well, I see where your sass comes from, Steve,” he said. “I’ll have to step up my game.”

Steve was still blushing and looking for something to say when his father came down the stairs.

“You made it!” He said. He pulled Steve into a hug. “How was the drive?”

“Hey, Dad,” Steve said. “It was fine.” He stepped back. “Dad, this is my boyfriend, Bucky.”

Bucky stepped away from Sarah and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Joseph actually shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, finally,” he said. Then he looked at Steve. “I thought you said his name was James?”

“It’s a nickname, Joseph,” Sarah said, winking at Steve and Bucky. “Don’t be rude.”

Joseph sputtered while Bucky laughed. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I brought you this,” Bucky said, leaning down and picking up the the bottle of wine he had brought in. It had a silver bow tied around the neck. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Sarah said. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You boys hungry?” Joseph asked. “I’m making leftover pie.”

“Oh, no, they need to put their things away first,” Sarah cut in. “Steve, show Bucky up to your room.”

Steve froze halfway through picking up his suitcase. “My room?”

“Yes,” Joseph said. “Normally we would give James a guest room, but with the amount of people coming and going this week, we don’t have the space.”

“And we didn’t want to make Bucky share with a complete stranger,” Sarah added. “Besides, you’re an adult. And we figured since you actually brought this one to meet us...we may as well.”

Steve stared at them, dumbfounded. “Oh.”

Sarah tilted her head. “We thought you’d be okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, recovering. He picked up his stuff. “Yeah, it’s fine, of course. I just. Wasn’t expecting it. Uh, come on, Bucky.”

He caught Bucky barely holding back his laughter as he walked by and tried resolutely to ignore it as he called for Lana and Yoshi. Bucky was at least smart enough to wait to laugh until they reached the next landing.

“Oh my god,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You should have seen your face.”

“Shut up,” Steve hissed. “They usually make people take a guest bedroom, even if it is on the same floor, which is where  _ you’ll _ be sleeping.”

Bucky stopped laughing. “What! No way, I’m your guest.”

“You’re a pain in my ass is what you are,” Steve sniffed. He was mostly joking, anyway. Steve’s parents were polite, but he didn’t trust some of his younger extended family not to come barging in. It was fun to give Bucky shit, though.

“Not yet, I’m not,” Bucky leered. Steve smacked him. “Besides, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t lied to your mother, Steven. I don’t see why I have to be the one to suffer.”

“Because,” Steve said, but he didn’t get another word out as he opened the door and Bucky yelled, “This bed is huge anyway! What are you even worrying about?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s a queen bed, Bucky.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t get a queen bed until I had moved out and bought my own mattress,” Bucky said as he stepped into the room and set his stuff down. Yoshi sniffed around the room a bit, then flopped onto her pillow in the corner. Lana began a thorough inspection of every corner of the room while Bucky flopped onto the bed on his back, arms stretched above his head.

“Make yourself at home,” Steve said. He forced himself not to look at the way Bucky’s shirt rode up above his jeans, revealing a strip of tan skin and dark hair dipping into his jeans. 

Bucky winked at him. “Seriously, I was expecting like, a twin bed,” he said. “Maybe a rocket ship bed frame. Or were you more of a fire truck kid?”

“Dinosaurs,” Steve said drily. He dropped his bag next to his desk and pulled out his phone. There were two texts from Misty, and a message on Tinder from Will.

“So what do your parents do, exactly?” Bucky asked.

“They own a shipping company,” Steve said, opening Will’s message. 

**Will:** Have a safe trip!

**Me:** Thanks!

Bucky propped himself up on his elbows. “A shipping company? That sounds sketchy, what do they ship?" When Steve didn't answer right away, he prodded: "Steve, are your parents drug lords?”

“What?" Steve gave him a skeptical look. "Seriously?" He went back to his phone. He should really try harder with Will, since he was going to spend the whole week not falling for Bucky.

**Me:** Sorry, I don’t think I asked what you’re doing for the holidays?

Steve set his phone down and opened up his suitcase. “Do you need to hang anything up?

“Don’t avoid the question, Steven.” Bucky sat up all the way. “Are they drug lords?”

“Oh my god, no,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Do you have any clothes to hang?“

“Why would I?”

Steve turned to him again, heart rate spiking. He had  _ told  _ Bucky about the New Year’s Eve party, and Midnight Mass, and Christmas dinner. They weren’t white tie events or anything, but he needed to look presentable. 

“You did  _ not _ forget to bring--” Steve cut himself off, seeing the twinkle in Bucky’s eye. “Ugh. Fuck you.”

Bucky grinned. “Of course I remembered. A nice sweater for Mass and a button up for New Year’s Eve. Even brought a tie that I probably won’t wear unless I really have to.”

“You’re awful,” Steve said, and stuck his tongue out.

“You know, I kinda feel like we should be making out like we could get caught at any moment,” Bucky said. “Like teenagers, sneaking around in your parents house."

Steve snorted and ignored the fact that he would really like to kiss Bucky. “Tempting, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Offer’s open,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“If that’s the best offer you have, it’s a permanent pass.” Steve moved Yoshi’s coat to the little basket of toys next to his desk. 

Bucky hummed, standing up to get his own bag. “I’ll make a better effort next time,” he said.

“Good,” Steve said before he could stop himself. “I want your best or nothing.”

Bucky laughed. “Are you sure? You think you can handle my best?”

“I can handle anything you got,” Steve said boldly. He turned to his closet with his dress shirt to hide the agony on his face and thought to himself,  _ What the hell am I doing? _

“Okay,” Bucky said. “You asked for it.”

Steve shrugged with a lot more nonchalance than he actually felt. “I’m not worried. Plenty of guys just like you, remember? Immunity.”

“We’ll see,” Bucky said. “So, what is ‘leftover pie?’ It doesn’t sound like actual pie, sadly.”

“It’s not,” Steve said. “Well, it might be. It’s just everything that’s leftover in the fridge. It’s to clear room for all the stuff we’re gonna be cooking over the next week.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky said. “Then what? Like, for the rest of the week.” He came over next to Steve and hung up a charcoal dress shirt and black slacks.

“Well, Christmas Eve morning is basically the last time without anyone else around, so Mom and Dad and I do breakfast. And you. Do you like waffles?”

“Does the pope wear a funny hat?”

Steve scoffed. “Good. And then sometime in the afternoon family will start showing up and after that it’s madness for the next 48 hours.”

“How many people will there be, anyway?” Bucky asked. He pulled off his jacket and hung it up as well. Steve turned back to his clothes before he could stare too long at Bucky’s biceps stretching his henley.

“I don’t know how many are staying all week,” Steve said. He rifled through his suitcase, deciding if he needed to hang anything else up. “My grandparents will be here tomorrow, but usually leave before the New Year’s party. I’ve got cousins and aunts and uncles who come up, but some come for Midnight Mass and stay till the party, others only come for Christmas and leave the next day, so it’s hard to say. Probably the most family will be here on Christmas. And the party is family and friends.”

“How does the gift thing work with that many people?” 

“If they’re just coming up for dinner, most of them do their own gift exchange at home and bring anything for anyone else. Otherwise we do it here in the morning and it’s chaotic and hilarious.”

Bucky grinned. “Sounds like fun.”

Steve’s phone started to vibrate on the desk next to him. When he flipped it over, it showed his mom calling. Steve frowned and answered it.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, unable to hide his confusion. Bucky gave him a questioning look and Steve shrugged.

“Hi, sweetie,” Sarah said. Steve did not like the hesitant tone she was using. “We were just - we didn’t want to interrupt you, but your father’s starting dinner and we’re wondering if you two are going to come down to join us?”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself not to sigh. “Mom we’re not - we’re just putting some stuff away. We’ll be down in just a minute.”

“Alright!” She hung up without saying anything else.

Steve set his phone down without opening his eyes, taking a moment to really revel in his parent’s awkward curiosity.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked slowly.

“Yeah.” Steve let out a breath and looked at Bucky, standing there with his eyebrows raised. “They didn’t want to ‘interrupt’ us, but they’re starting dinner.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment, and then he burst into laughter.

It was going to be a long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well now we know where steve gets all of his suave from
> 
> thank you for sticking with his absurdly self-indulgent nonsense! <3 come holler about dogs with me on [tumblr](http://lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com/) with me :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's ret-conning her story to have tattoed!bucky!!! :D

There was pie at dinner, although Sarah slapped their hands when they went straight for it.

“We have real food, you can wait for dessert,” she said.

“Pie is real food,” Steve argued, but he put the saran wrap back over the pie. Joseph was pulling containers out of the fridge and setting them on the kitchen island next to Bucky’s bottle of wine.

“Okay,” he said, shutting the fridge. “I found some alfredo, beef stew, chicken and rice, roasted veggies, and your mother’s hockey pucks - I mean, biscuits.” Sarah slapped his arm and he ducked away, laughing. “James, any of that sound good?”

Bucky took a moment to respond. “Oh - uh, alfredo? That sounds great. Thanks.”

“Alright. Steve?”

“Chicken, please.”

Joseph dished out the food while Steve and Bucky mixed up bowls of food for the dogs and Sarah opened Bucky’s wine and poured them all glasses.

“So, Steve never told us how you two met,” Sarah said, setting out utensils and napkins next to the wine.

“Dog park,” Steve said, settling into a stool.

At the same time, he heard Bucky say, “Tinder.”

Steve froze, the moment crystallizing. Sarah looked at them over her wine glass. Joseph tilted his head while he set Buck’s bowl of pasta down. Steve had no idea how long it took him to turn his head and stare at Bucky, sure his parents could see the blind panic on his face. It felt like an age.

Bucky blinked at him once, and then he laughed. He sat down in the stool next to Steve’s and took his hand.

“We matched on Tinder, and then a few days later we were at the same dog park, completely by coincidence,” Bucky said. “But Steve doesn’t like to tell people we met on Tinder.”

Steve ducked his head, trying to turn his panic into bashfulness. “People are skeptical when you tell them you met a guy on Tinder,” he said.

“So that’s what you meant when you said you were ‘taking it slow,’” Sarah said.

Steve almost knocked his wine over while Bucky burst out laughing. “Mom! What--Mom!!”

“I told you!” Bucky said.

“What?” Sarah asked, failing to hide a smile. “No shame, honey, people do that all the time.”

“Anyway, isn’t Tinder the hookup app?” Joseph added, scooping chicken and rice onto a plate for Steve.

“How do you even know that?” Steve cried.

“We live in upstate New York, Steve, not Antarctica,” Sarah said. “There are children around, and we read the news.”

“This is horrible,” Steve said, covering his face.

The rest of the dinner conversation did actually stay away from Steve’s love life, thankfully. His parents asked Bucky about work and school and where he grew up. Steve could see that Bucky was right, they _did_ like him. He was funny and charming and polite. Steve sat by and wondered what part of his personality was a put on - the cool guy with the Mustang and the snark, or the polite engineering nerd who stole pieces of chicken off Steve’s plate and dropped them for the dogs.

Eventually Steve’s parents excused themselves to get ready for bed. Steve ribbed them about being old, going to bed so early, but he and Bucky followed them upstairs. All four dogs came with, jostling and racing to be the first up.

Sarah poked Steve in the side. “It’ll be you soon enough,” she said. “See how funny it is when you’re changing my diapers.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Think I’ll just put you in a home.”

“Not me,” Joseph declared. “I’m going to die hunting a bear, I’ve got it all planned out.”

Steve snorted. “Well, at least I’ll know where you went when I wake up one morning and you and your gun are gone.”

“Damn straight,” Joseph said.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Sarah told them. “We’re having breakfast in the morning, don’t forget. Bucky, do you like waffles?”

“Absolutely,” Bucky said.

“How could I forget?” Steve asked her. “Just wake us up to help. Well, I’ll help. Bucky isn’t allowed to do anything except watch.”

“Uh, excuse you, I can drink lots of coffee and eat a lot of waffles,” Bucky said.

“Great,” Joseph said. “You and Sarah can keep each other company.”

“Hush, you,” Sarah said to him. “Good night, boys. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night,” they said, and ducked quickly into Steve’s room. Steve waited to shut the door, listening to his parents voices move down the hall, the clink of Jameson and Jackie’s collars. He leaned back against the door when they were gone, looking at Bucky. They were quiet for a moment, and then both of them started to laugh.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasped, sliding down to the floor. Yoshi came over immediately, wriggling happily.

“We have got to work on your poker face, buddy,” Bucky said.

“Shut up, you’re the one who forgot our cover story!” Steve said, scratching Yoshi’s ears and keeping her tongue out of his mouth.

Bucky stuck his tongue out. “And I came up with a perfectly good cover-up lie, calm down.”

Steve scoffed. “We met coincidentally at the dog park? Sure.”

“It’s cute!” Steve raised an eyebrow at him. Bucky scowled back. “Whatever, they went for it.”

Steve sighed and stood up.  “I’m going to shower.”

“Want company?” Bucky asked with a wink.

“Nope,” Steve said cheerfully, grabbing his pajamas and his phone. “But you can have the next one.”

“I don’t actually shower at night,” Bucky said. “Messes up my hair. The three of us will just have to wait here, missing you.”

Steve snorted. “Sure.”

“Don’t be too long,” Bucky said, wistful like a princess on stage. “For parting is such sweet sorrow, dear Steven.”

“Oh, jeez,” Steve groaned. Bucky threw himself onto the bed, hand to his forehead.

“Lana! Yoshi! When will my beloved return from war? How shall we survive without him?” He cried in a terrible accent. Both dogs jumped onto the bed at the sound of their names, climbing over Bucky and sniffing at his face and hands. Lana licked him straight on the mouth, and Steve left, laughing, while Bucky gagged and swore.

There was a message from Will waiting for Steve as he walked to the bathroom.

 **Will:** I’m visiting my family in Iowa

 **Will:** My sister just had a baby, so I finally get to meet my niece!

 **Me:** That’s great! How old is she?

Steve tried not to think too much about how Sam and Misty would absolutely find Iowa boring. Steve kind of thought it was boring. But it was nice that Will was excited. Not everyone had to be interesting city people and work for Stark Enterprises and drive classic cars. Nothing wrong with that.

There was absolutely something wrong with coming back into his room, towel around his shoulders, and finding Bucky looking at Steve’s old pictures, shirtless. No shirt. Just basketball shorts that rode low, low, _low_ on his hips and two full sleeves of tattoos that Steve couldn’t properly make out in the dim lamplight. Definitely a problem.

Steve was still frozen in the doorway with his hand on the knob and staring at Bucky’s dumb, toned shoulders when Bucky said, “Is this little blonde kid really you?”

Steve took a deep breath, trying to process the question. “Uhh. It’s - yeah. Yeah, that’s me. I was real small as a kid.”

“No kidding,” Bucky said. “I like the hipster glasses.” He set the photo he was holding down and turned, and that was even worse. Steve wanted to die. “Oh, man, you still have the hipster glasses! Sexy.”

The gentle teasing was enough to stop Steve from staring at Bucky’s stupidly broad torso. He swallowed once and shut the door.

“You’re hilarious,” he said dryly, hanging his towel on the hook on the back of the door. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

Bucky laughed. “I’m serious! I like it. Really doing it for me. You sure you don’t want to make out like teenagers?”

Against his better judgement, Steve turned back. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms to try to hide his blush. “Positive. Especially since you haven’t brushed your teeth.”

Bucky opened his mouth, then gave a little shrug and nodded. “That’s fair. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Second door on the right.”

Bucky gathered his toiletry bag and left. Steve sat on the bed and covered his face and resisted the urge to scream.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered bleakly. What the fuck was he doing? How was he going to survive this week? How was he going to survive _tonight?_ What a fucking disaster. This whole thing was a mess. They should just - they should just scrap the whole thing and Bucky could go back to Brooklyn and Steve could say they’d gotten in a fight and he could have his life back. Just enjoy his week with his family, pretend to mope a little, and forget the whole thing happened.

No, his mom would think it was her fault for wanting to meet Bucky so fast. Steve couldn’t let her feel bad over his fake breakup with his fake boyfriend.

Maybe they should just fuck. He could just - just pull Bucky into bed and get it out of their system. He was probably mediocre in bed, guys like him always were. Steve _did_ have a type, and that meant he knew these guys, all talk and no action. They could fuck, and Steve would decide it wasn’t worth it, and Bucky would get it out of his system and--

“So,” Bucky said, shutting the door. Steve squeaked and jumped up. Bucky gave him a weird look for a moment, then continued, “What side of the bed do you want?”

“Oh,” Steve said dumbly. “Um, right.”

“Leaving me the door side, huh?” Bucky asked. He was still standing by the door, fiddling with the drawstrings on his shorts.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said. “While the axe murderer is busy with you, I’ll escape out the window.”

“They’ll never get me,” Bucky said decidedly. Lana wandered over to him and he knelt to scratch her ears. “Lana will protect me. Won’t you, honey? You’ll warn us and then we can leave Steve behind.”

Steve snorted. “Well, just take care of Yoshi when I’m gone.”

“You got it,” Bucky said. He straightened up. “Shall we?”

Steve stopped himself from staring. Bucky was probably two inches shorter than Steve, how did he occupy so much space?

Steve turned back to the bed to hide his blush. Stupid. This was stupid. “The dogs are sleeping up here too. Keep your hands to yourself, pal.”

Bucky laughed and finally crossed the room. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when we both get kicked in the spine all night and you’re crushed against the wall with no blankets.”

“Hey, my dog is an angel when she sleeps,” Steve said. He settled into his side of the bed and patted the mattress. Yoshi jumped up next to him and circled several times before laying down, half curled against Steve’s stomach, still easily within scratching range.

Bucky was watching them with a little smile when Steve looked back at him. He shook himself when Steve caught his eye, and called Lana up as he got in bed. She shuffled around a little before stretching out halfway on top of Yoshi. It didn’t look comfortable for either of them, but Yoshi barely stirred, just enough to shift her head onto Lana’s stomach. Lana just huffed quietly.

“Glad to see they’re getting along,” Bucky said, curling up around Lana, mirroring Steve.

Steve laughed. “No kidding.”

“They’re already taking up more than their share of the bed, though,” Bucky said, giving Steve a grim look across the pillows. “I’m telling you, we’re both going to wake up on the floor.”

“You might, but I’m next to the wall,” Steve pointed out.

Bucky shook his head. “They’ll find a way.”

Steve squinted at him, grinning. “You’re just trying to get them evicted so you can cuddle me.”

“Damn, you see right through me,” Bucky said, grinning.

“Asshole immunity,” Steve said. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Bucky laughed. “I will.”

They were quiet, just looking at each other. Bucky’s eyes drifted to Steve’s mouth, and Steve swallowed, waiting, while the moment stretched out, too long, razor sharp.

Bucky met Steve’s eyes again and gave him a very small smile. “Good night, Steve,” he said, reaching up to turn off the light.

Steve breathed out, slow, listening to Bucky settle back on the bed. He shut his eyes before they could adjust too much and he just stared at Bucky all night.

“Good night, Bucky.”

* * *

 

Steve had a vague memory of half-waking in the middle of the night and shoving Yoshi off of him and Lana’s paws out of his back. He was pretty sure it had resulted in at least one of them getting off the bed, but then he was rolling over and dropping back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, sun was slanting through the curtains and someone was knocking on the door.

“Steve, Bucky,” Sarah called. “We’re starting breakfast soon, and if you don’t come down to help we’re not sharing.”

Steve lifted his head and spoke without opening his eyes. “Be down in a minute.”

“I’m going to drink all the coffee,” Sarah sing-songed as she walked away.

Steve let his head drop back to the pillow and sighed, burrowing closer to the warm body in front of him. He stretched his arm out, expecting to find Yoshi’s ears and instead met bare skin covered in a light dusting of hair.

The moment of confusion was banished as soon as Steve opened his eyes to Bucky right in front of him. Instead of being across two pillows, Steve had rolled onto Bucky’s pillow, almost nose to nose. Bucky was soft and sleepy, a bit rumpled, but he was looking at Steve with a small smile that made Steve’s heart skip a little.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Bucky said. Steve suppressed a shiver at the timber of his voice, so low and _close_. He tried to think of something to say, something to deflect and distract from the effect it was all having on him, but Bucky spoke first.

“You…” he said, in the same low, sweet tone. “Have awful morning breath.”

Steve blinked, momentarily confused while his brain parsed the words and the tone.

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “You are such a jerk.”

Bucky burst out laughing, rolling away onto his back. “You should have seen your face.”

“Screw you,” Steve said, lifting his head and blowing a strong breath towards Bucky. Bucky gagged dramatically and rolled, fake choking, off the bed. He gave one final dramatic gasp and stuck his tongue out, starfished out on the floor.

Steve rolled his eyes, sticking his head over the edge of the bed. “The dogs are coming to lick your tongue.”

Bucky’s eyes flew open and he sat up quickly. Steve only just had time to pull his own head back to avoid a collision. When Bucky looked around for the dogs and found them both only just getting up from their pile on the dog pillow in the corner, he scowled at Steve. Steve smiled sweetly back.

“You’re a punk,” Bucky said, shaking his head and standing up.

“I try,” Steve told him. He flopped onto his back and stretched his arms over his head, twisting in the sheets. They were still warm, and when Steve turned his head, he could smell Bucky’s aftershave on the pillow, a nice piney musk scent. He tried not to inhale too deeply in case Bucky saw him.

Steve almost swallowed his tongue when he sat up and looked at Bucky. His back was to Steve as he stretched, arms over his head, putting the muscles in his back and shoulders into sharp relief. His arms flexed and stretched, the tattoos shifting slightly over the muscles. Steve watched, eyes trailing down, over Bucky’s thick torso and impressive thighs, and had to stop himself from sighing.

Why did he have to be so hot? It wasn’t fair.

A voice in Steve’s head that sounded suspiciously like Sam told him that it was his own fault. He brushed it away, took a deep breath, and got out of bed.

“Do you want to shower now?” Steve asked. He stared straight at his bag as he went for it and started rooting around for a shirt.

“Not if I’m gonna miss breakfast,” Bucky said. He joined Steve at the desk and started pulling clean clothes out of his own bag nonetheless.

“If you’re quick I might save you a waffle.”

“Only one?”

“That’s all you’re allowed anyway,” Steve said. “The rest are mine.”

“Only if I get to feed them to you,” Bucky said, smirking.

Steve shoved him away, grinning. “Gross. Go shower. There are clean towels under the sink.”

“I’ll be super fast, so don’t miss me too much.” Bucky winked and sauntered off. Steve finished getting dressed and then went downstairs with both dogs at his heels.

His parents were already in the kitchen, Sarah making coffee while Joseph mixed batter and heated the waffle iron.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Sarah said.

“Good morning.” Steve kissed her cheek and patted his dad on the back on the way through the kitchen.

“Where’s James?” Joe asked.

“Showering. He should be down pretty quick.”

Jameson and Jackie both jumped up as Steve opened the cupboard with the dog food. Lana and Yoshi circled at his feet as he tried to move until he stopped and looked down at them.

“Out of the kitchen,” he said firmly, pointing to where the retrievers were waiting, where the kitchen tile met the carpet of the living room. To his surprise, Lana followed Yoshi away to wait with the other dogs. Steve smiled and finished making their breakfast.

“How did you sleep?” Sarah asked.

Steve hesitated, trying to figure out why her tone sounded so strange. He glanced at her, pouring her coffee and very carefully not looking at him. Neither was his dad as he poured batter carefully into the iron.

Right. The whole - bed sharing. They thought he and Bucky had spent the whole night having sex, probably. Because Steve’s parents apparently didn’t think he had any restraint.

“Fine,” he said lightly. He gave the dogs their breakfast and scratched Yoshi’s ears as she tucked in. “Only woke up once with the dogs kicking me, so that was nice. What time are people getting here?”

“I’m picking up your grandparents in Albany around one-thirty,” Joe said. “We have a little more cleaning to do before they get here.”

“We’ll help,” Steve said.

“Excuse me.” Steve jumped at Bucky’s voice as he stepped into the kitchen behind Steve. “I was told I wouldn’t have to help with the cooking, and trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Steve rolled his eyes to stop himself from staring at the tattoos that climbed up Bucky’s muscled forearms and disappeared under the sleeves of his t-shirt. It would look strange if he stared too closely, he should know what they were. And anyway, it would just be rude to stare at the way Bucky’s sleeves stretched over his biceps at the breakfast table.

“Oh, no, honey,” his mom was saying. “You and I are going to sit here and drink our coffee and appreciate the view while the boys cook for us.”

“Excellent,” Bucky said. He winked at Steve as he picked up a mug next to the coffee pot. “Exactly how I like to start my morning.”

“You see what I have to put up with, Steve?” Joe said. “She only wants me for my body.”

“Oh god, please,” Steve groaned. “Not in front of company.”

Bucky was cackling. _“Please_ in front of company. Embarrass him as much as possible. I want to know all the embarrassing things about Steve. Every dumb childhood story. “

“Every one?” Sarah grinned wickedly. “Has he told you the ‘hangurber’ thing?”

“No,” Bucky leaned towards her “It sounds adorable.”

“You're sleeping on the couch,” Steve grumbled.

“Not unless you're going to share your bed with your cousin Tommy,” his dad said mildly, but Steve could see the twinkle in his eye.

“I hate all of you,” he announced. No one listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!! what a long chapter that accomplished nothing! but hey we got to the bed sharing and wine-mom!sarah
> 
> thanks for hanging in you are all truly incredible


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You give up?” Bucky said, leaning in until their chests were pressed together. His breath was a warm puff of air over Steve’s lips and nose, and Steve shivered.
> 
> “Yeah,” Steve said, meeting his eyes again and biting his lip. Bucky’s eyes dropped there, easy as anything, and he leaned a little closer. “You got me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not dead just sleeping
> 
> warning for a brief, non graphic mention of animal abuse in this chapter

Bucky and Steve cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast so Steve’s parents could go get ready to head to Albany.

“You can’t cook, but at least you can clean up,” Steve said.

“Oh yeah, cuz putting dishes in the dishwasher is really so difficult,” Bucky said with a snort.

“I was complimenting you,” Steve sniffed. “Be nice.”

“Can your next compliment be about my stunning good looks or my conversational skills or something that’s an actual attribute?”

Steve lifted an eyebrow and held onto the mug he had as Bucky tried to take it.

“You’re eyes are the most stunning shade of gray I’ve ever seen,” he said, completely deadpan. “I could look at them every day forever.”

Bucky blinked at him several times.

“Nevermind, I don’t want you to compliment me at all.”

Steve laughed and let him take the mug. “You will get no compliments from me after you spent all of breakfast trying to embarrass me.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Bucky batted his eyelashes. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

Steve scoffed and slapped Bucky with the dish towel. “Shut up, jerk.”

They moved into the living room when they were done. Bucky went upstairs while Steve laid out on the couch with his phone to check notifications and emails. Bucky came back down with a pad of engineering paper. He glowered at Steve’s feet until Steve shuffled them up so he could sit, then, put them back into Bucky’s lap. Bucky snorted but just pulled a blanket over them and started to flip through his pad of paper.

 **Will:** Good morning! How are things going upstate? It’s cold as hell out here, but we’re going sledding in about an hour. Any plans for the day?

 **Me:** My grandparents are getting to town today, so my parents will be picking them up soon, right now I’m just finishing coffee and staying warm!

“Steve!” Joe called, coming down the stairs. “Will you two put your coats and shoes on and go put sand on the driveway?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Steve said, swinging his feet off Bucky’s lap. “All the stuff still in the shed?”

“Yeah.” Joe started down the hallway towards the garage. “Phil already plowed, just look for the nasty spots.”

“Who’s Phil?” Bucky asked, following Steve to the door.

“A neighbor. He and his wife own a landscaping business so they’ve got a bulldozer they use to plow people’s driveways. After Christmas he’ll plow an area in front of the house where people will be parking for the New Year’s Eve party.”

Bucky snorted. “Dude just owns a bulldozer and plows driveways. Sure.”

“It’s a business expense,” Steve teased. He finished lacing his boots and reached for the closet before remembering that their coats were upstairs.

“I’ll grab your coat,” he told Bucky as he went to the stairs. “If you want to borrow some gloves they’re in the closet at the top in a basket.”

“Thanks.”

When Steve came back down, his dad was pressing one of his own sweaters into Bucky’s hands insistently.

“It’s cold out there son, and that’s one hundred percent cashmere,” he was saying. He was using what Steve and his mom called his “Army voice,” and it was definitely working on Bucky. “Do the smart thing, you’ll be glad you took it.”

“I - okay,” Bucky said. He looked slightly cowed - normal in the face of a retired army captain - but when he glanced at Steve, his eyes were dancing just a little. Joe didn’t notice, only nodding once in approval before heading into the library.

“I think I just got bullied by your dad,” Bucky said, looking at the sweater before pulling it on. “And possibly called stupid.”

Steve grinned and jumped down the last few stairs. “It means he likes you,” he said, handing Bucky his jacket.

“Oh?” Bucky tilted his head. “Wild.”

Once they were finally bundled up enough - and they were lucky to get out of the house before Steve’s mom came downstairs, since neither of them chose to wear gloves or scarves - they headed out and down the porch. All four dogs followed them out, romping through the snow around them as they headed to the shed.

“How much do we need?” Bucky asked as they pulled the wheelbarrow out.

“Probably only one bag,” Steve said. “We just need to walk down to the road and look for any spots that are still frozen and might cause a problem.”

He poured a bag into the wheelbarrow, grabbed a shovel, and they set off. Lana and Yoshi nipped at their heels and each other, jumping in the snow drifts on the side of the driveway.

“How old is Yoshi?” Bucky asked.

“She’s...god, she’ll be four in May,” Steve said. “Had her since she was a puppy. What about Lana?”

“Five in August...probably,” Bucky said. “She was a rescue from one of those crazy people’s houses that’s full of animals and is dirty and horrible and bad for all the dogs. I fostered her and her two brothers once they were well enough, and ended up keeping her.”

“Jesus.” Steve grimaced. “She looks like a Rottweiler, do you know what she is?”

“Mostly Rottweiler, that’s what her mom was, and her brothers looked mostly the same, but they don’t know about her dad for sure.” He watched Lana jump through the snow, ears flopping happily. “The fucking asshole was keeping a bunch of bully breeds in the house, messing them up, using them to fight. Lucky someone called the cops and got them rescued before the three of them got older.”

“What a fucking prick,” Steve growled, testing a patch of ice harder than was probably necessary.

“Yeah.” Bucky tilted the wheelbarrow so Steve could scrape some sand onto the ice. “I’m just glad she’s as happy and healthy as she is.”

“Yeah.” Steve watched the dogs, smiling. “She’s lucky to have you, too.”

Bucky blinked at Steve and his cheeks went a little pink. He smiled. “Well I think I’m the lucky one.” He shifted a little, then picked up the wheelbarrow. “What about Yoshi? How’d you get her?”

“I had just finished my first big graphic design gig and I had told myself that once I felt like I was on my feet, I was getting a dog. And I thought about an older dog but when I got to the shelter there was this bundle of puppies with their mom and when I leaned down to look at them she came right up to me and I just didn’t stand a chance. I was a goner.”

Bucky laughed. “Hit you with the puppy eyes, huh? You softie.”

“Hey!” Steve bumped him with his shoulder. “I’m not the one who was giving them table scraps all night.”

“They deserve it,” Bucky said, unrepentant.

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, alright.”

They finished the sanding in about twenty minutes. When they made their way back to the house, Steve’s dad was just pulling the car out of the garage. He got out, looked at his watch, and went back into the house to yell.

“Sarah! We’re going to be late!”

Steve couldn’t hear it, but from the way Joe rolled his eyes, Steve knew she had replied. Still, she was down only a few minutes later, just as Steve and Bucky closed the shed up.

“Steve, will you make sure the downstairs bathroom has everything it needs?” she asked as she passed them. “I changed the sheets already, but put another blanket in their room, just in case. Also--”

 _“Sarah,”_ Joe said, impatient.

“Hush, Joseph,” she said, but kept walking to the car.

“I got it, Ma,” Steve said, hugging her. “Don’t worry. Drive safe, Dad,” he added, leaning down to speak through the door. “Love you guys.”

“We will,” Joseph said. “Be--”

Before he could finish the sentence, a flew into the back of Steve’s head with a wet _smack_. He yelped and twisted as ice water ran down his collar, turning to glare at Bucky, standing several feet away and laughing.

Sarah and Joseph were laughing too, though not as hard as Bucky.

“Do you want me to put the dogs in the house for you?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, please,” Steve said. “I need go smother someone.”

“Have fun, honey,” Sarah said mildly, and called for the dogs. She let them into the mud room and Steve held the car door for her, still glaring at Bucky. Bucky just grinned at him, nonchalant and impish, leisurely rolling another snowball.

“I’m going to kill you,” Steve said as he shut the car door behind his mom.

“You don’t scare me,” Bucky said. “I’m the snowball fight champion.”

“Not for long,” Steve promised, and as his parents headed down the driveway, Steve rushed Bucky, scooping up snow as he went.

Bucky laughed and danced away. He wasn’t fast enough to miss the snowball Steve flung at him. Bucky fired back, and when he reached down to grab another handful of snow, Steve tackled him. Bucky whooped as they rolled into the snow, shouting and laughing, both of them trying to push the other’s head into the snow. Steve’s hair and ears were soaked and freezing in minutes, but so was Bucky, his hair slipping out of it’s little ponytail.

They fought and wrestled for a good twenty minutes before Bucky finally managed to roll on top of Steve and pin his hands in the snow.

“Gotcha!” Bucky said, grinning triumphantly.

Steve ignored the little spike in his stomach at being held down like that, until it occurred to him that maybe he could use that. He sighed and let himself go limp.

“You win,” he said, pouting up at Bucky.

Bucky looked at him, and Steve let his eyes flick to Bucky’s lips, then back up and away. It wasn’t really a stretch to act embarrassed.

“You give up?” Bucky said, leaning in until their chests were pressed together. His breath was a warm puff of air over Steve’s lips and nose, and Steve shivered.

“Yeah,” Steve said, meeting his eyes again and biting his lip. Bucky’s eyes dropped there, easy as anything, and he leaned a little closer. “You got me.”

Bucky hummed, still looking at Steve’s lips. He shifted his hands to lean in closer, farther out. It was exactly what Steve was waiting for. Before Bucky could get any closer, Steve scooped up a handful of snow and mashed it into Bucky’s head, right on his ear. Bucky howled and cringed away, and Steve took the opportunity to shove Bucky sideways and scramble on top of him. He didn’t even bother to pin Bucky down, just started to shovel snow onto him as fast as he could. Bucky shouted and batted at his hands.

“You are the _worst!”_ He yelled, and got a mouthful of snow while Steve cackled.

“Say uncle!”

“I give, I give!” Bucky cried. He pulled his arms over his face, muffling his voice. “You win! Stop!”

Steve stopped shoving snow into his face and settled back, laughing. “Now who’s the champion of snowball fights?”

Bucky peeked out between his elbows, and slowly lowered his arms, wiping at his face. “You, because you’re a cheater.”

“All’s fair,” Steve said. He climbed off Bucky and offered him a hand up. “Truce?”

“Yeah, yeah, truce, cheater.” Still, Bucky took his hand up and followed Steve in through the garage. “I don’t think my ear will ever be the same.”

“You started it!”

“I threw a snowball, I didn’t try to smother you with snow!”

They stripped out of their boots and coats in the garage as they argued, shaking off the excess snow and starting to shiver.

“Even my socks are wet,” Bucky complained, pulling them off and wringing one out.

“Oh stop,” Steve said. The laminate of the mud room wasn’t much better, slick with dirt and water from the dogs, who all jumped up as soon as Steve opened the door.

“Hold on, hold on,” he told them, grabbing a few of the ratty old towels kept in the room for exactly this. He shoved one at Bucky, who knelt down to dry off Lana and was almost knocked over.

“There is ice water on my _nipples,”_ Bucky said.

“I don’t want to hear about your nipples!”

“That’s fine, you can see them through my shirt right now anyway,” Bucky grumbled. “You were just trying to get me all wet, weren’t you?”

Steve snorted. “I swear, if the next words out of your mouth are about sharing body heat…”

“They weren’t going to be, but that’s not a bad idea, Steve.”

Steve chucked the dirty towel at him. Bucky batted it away. “No thanks, but I will deign to put your clothes in the drier for you if it will get you to stop whining.”

“Such a gracious host,” Bucky said, but he pulled off his shirt as he stood up. Steve turned away and forced himself not to comment on how hard Bucky’s nipples actually were.

“You want some hot chocolate?” Steve asked as he led them into the rest of the house. The dogs went bounding off into the living room in search of toys.

“Sure,” Bucky said. “I’m going to go dry my hair off.”

“Leave your clothes in my room, I’ll put them in the drier when I get this started.” Steve paused. “Did you really bring a blow dryer with you?”

“You think I get this volume without one?” Bucky asked, and winked before he sauntered off.

Steve watched him go, trying to ignore the little pang of longing. _Stupid_ , he thought, but the feeling only got worse when he thought about Bucky above him, his lips only a few inches from Steve’s. Steve squirmed as he headed to the kitchen and set milk on the stove to boil.

It wasn’t really stupid to want to kiss Bucky, Steve tried to tell himself as he headed up the stairs to change his own clothes. He was very attractive - Misty and Sam were right that Bucky was just Steve’s type. So it wasn’t really stupid, except that the whole thing was a lie, and pretty obviously a joke to Bucky. Steve didn’t have to actually _like_ Bucky to maintain the lie, even if he was handsome and charming and funny and very kissable.

Except that maintaining the lie...might involve some kissing. Steve frowned as he loaded their clothes into the dryer. It would be weird if they never kissed, right?

“You’re only saying that because you want to kiss him,” he muttered out loud. “Right?”

Steve stared at the dryer knob for several moments, trying to figure that out. He did want to kiss Bucky, regardless of feelings. Bucky was very pretty, and Steve wanted to kiss him. But it was also true that they were supposed to be dating, and people who were dating kissed. They only had to kiss when other people were around, because they weren’t actually dating, but they would still have to kiss eventually.

Steve thought about all the moments they had almost kissed, the heady tension between them that morning and in the snow, when Bucky leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder at breakfast and smiled at him. But they still hadn’t done it.

“Shit,” Steve said to the milk he was stirring.

“What’s wrong?”

Steve jumped, whirling to face Bucky. He was wearing sweats and a different t-shirt, equally stretched across his chest and arms, leaning on the kitchen island. Steve hadn’t even heard him come down, too busy thinking himself in circles about it.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just...wasn’t sure if we have marshmallows. But we probably do. Could you look in that cupboard?”

Bucky gave him a confused look, which Steve ignored by turning back to the milk on the stove. He listened to Bucky rummaging around in the cupboard behind him, biting his lip.

“Found them,” Bucky said. He straightened up and held the bag out as Steve turned back to him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve took the bag, then stared at Bucky, holding the marshmallows between them like a shield. “I’m fine, I just…”

Bucky raised his eyebrows when Steve didn’t finish, waiting. Steve took a breath. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. _I was just thinking about how much I want to kiss you?_ Stupid.

Stupid! Steve huffed, glanced at Bucky’s lips, telling himself to stop freaking out. They should just get the first kiss out of the way so they wouldn’t be standing around acting awkward in front of Steve’s family. Jesus.

With that in mind, Steve licked his lips and took a half step forward, then leaned in to close the gap between them, pressing his lips to Bucky’s in a short, dry kiss. Bucky made a small, startled noise, but Steve leaned back before he could really react. It wasn’t much of a kiss, but Steve could feel his cheeks getting red anyway.

“There,” he said after a moment where Bucky just stared at him, mouth slightly open. “We were probably gonna have to kiss in front of my family, so now the awkward first one is out of the way.”

Bucky just blinked, so Steve turned away to pull down two mugs. Why was he _still blushing?_

“That is the worst first kiss ever!” Bucky burst out. Steve almost dropped a mug. He looked at Bucky, confused.

“I demand a redo. That wasn’t fair, I didn’t even - that is not a good gauge of my kissing abilities. I want a do-over.”

Steve burst out laughing, setting both mugs down on the counter until he got himself under control.

“Sorry pal, no take-backs. There’s only one first chance. You’re an engineer, you know how numbers work.”

Bucky made a disgusted noise. “You - you are so rude. Ugh.”

Steve grinned and started filling the mugs with cocoa powder and sugar. “I didn’t say it would be your last chance ever, just your last chance at a first kiss.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a tease,” he decided. “A cheater and a tease.”

Steve gave him his best innocent smile and made sure to lean down at the waist while he looked for peppermint sticks in a cupboard. Bucky made another disgusted noise.

He was still pouting when Steve handed him a mug of hot chocolate. He grumbled into it, but his expression cleared momentarily when he took a sip, sighing with contentment. Then he caught Steve watching and made sure to scowl again. Steve laughed.

“Will watching _Lord of the Rings_ make you feel better?” He asked.

Bucky’s lips pursed momentarily, but then he nodded. “Yeah. You got the extended ones?”

“Obviously,” Steve said. “Help me finish getting the rest of the house ready first.”

It turned out, once they had made sure the house was up to Sarah’s standards, that Bucky not only loved every single character in the movie, but could also quote most of the lines, like a nerd. They had to pause the movie once so Steve could rib him about the Aragorn ring he was wearing, wondering if Bucky also had a replica of Anduril hanging in his apartment (he did) and if he could use it (he could). Steve laughed until Bucky reached over to tickle him and called him jealous.

“Do you have a tattoo?” Steve gasped, batting Bucky’s hands away from his ribs. The screen was paused on Frodo’s face, contorted with horror at the vision The Ring granted him on Weathertop.

“I have lots of tattoos,” Bucky said. He was pouting again, but leaning into Steve and creeping his hands towards Steve’s sides.

“A _Lord of the Rings_ tattoo,” Steve clarified, smacking a hand off his thigh.

“I don’t think I want to tell you,” Bucky said. “You’re just going to laugh at me.”

“So you do have one,” Steve said. Bucky glared at him, and then he sighed and rolled the sleeve of his tee up over his bicep. Steve was delighted - both at the exposed muscle and the fact that Bucky did have a nerdy tattoo. He leaned in for a look, and if his hand accidentally-on-purpose felt up Bucky’s forearm…Bucky didn’t have to know.

There was a little dragon inked inside Bucky’s bicep, stretching down to his elbow. The wings lifted above its head, twisted back with its tongue out. It looked pretty old, and was mostly on its own in the little space it had.

“It’s the drawing of Smaug Tolkien did,” Bucky said with some resignation. “It was my birthday present to myself when I turned eighteen, so it doesn’t fit in with anything else and it almost convinced me to never get another one.”

“Why?”

“Pinch yourself in that spot and tell me you want to spent an hour getting needles stabbed into it.”

Steve laughed. “Doesn’t look like it worked though.”

“Nah,” Bucky said, rolling his sleeve back down. “I waited about a year and a half and then basically every artist I talked to told me nothing would hurt as bad as that. So far they’ve been right.”

“It’s nice, even if it doesn’t fit in with the rest of the sleeve,” Steve said. He made to lean back but before he could get far, Bucky’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him back in.

“I deserve to be cuddled after you were being so rude,” Bucky said. He wasn’t actually pulling hard, and Steve knew that if he pulled away, Bucky would let him. He didn’t want to pull away, though, so Steve let himself settle in with Bucky’s arm around his shoulder and played the movie.

Bucky got him back just fine during the race to Rivendell, when Steve got so hyped up about the river horses that he couldn’t stop himself from chanting along with Arwen and cheering when the wraiths were swept away. When he settled back down, Bucky was practically howling with laughter, shaking even as he wrapped his arm back around Steve’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe you were giving _me_ shit!” He cackled. Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Shut up.”

“I won’t,” Bucky said. “You speak Elvish, you have no room to call me a nard.”

“I don’t speak Elvish,” Steve sniffed. “I just know the lines. It’s not even a complete language, you can’t really speak it.”

That just set Bucky off again, and Steve had to pause the movie for him to settle down.

Eventually Bucky relaxed back into the couch, Steve still tucked into his side.

“Okay,” he said. He was still grinning like a loon. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure,” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

Steve lifted an eyebrow but pressed play in time for Gandalf to tell Frodo that he was delayed. Now that Bucky wasn’t laughing at him or trying to tickle Steve for making fun of him, it was easy for Steve to settle back into his side, let his head rest on Bucky’s shoulder.

At Aragorn and Arwen’s scene on the bridge, Steve could swear he felt Bucky sigh dreamily. Steve couldn’t really blame him, since he was also making mushy eyes at the screen as they spoke softly in Elvish. Steve was a sucker for the two of them, always.

 _“You said you’d bind yourself to me,”_ Bucky quoted along with the movie. Steve could swear he felt Bucky’s lips brush the top of his head. He liked it.

“Nerd,” Steve said, and his own voice was as soft as the film, no heat to what was an established fact, at this point.

“You like it,” Bucky replied, just as mild.

“Maybe.” Steve tilted his head and found Bucky already looking at him, a little smile on his face, eyes intently fixed on Steve’s.

 _“And to that I hold.”_ Bucky’s voice was a low rumble that Steve could feel as much as hear, the way they were pressed together. His hand came up to Steve’s cheek as he spoke, and Steve’s breath caught. _“I would rather live one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”_

 _Fuck,_ Steve thought. It was awful, and nerdy, and cheesy, and Steve’s heart was pounding in his throat because it was _working._

Bucky’s thumb brushed his cheekbone. “Tell me to stop,” Bucky said quietly, inches from Steve’s lips. “And I will.”

Steve didn’t let himself think about it, just closed the space between them and pressed his lips to Bucky’s again. It was a far more intimate than the kiss Steve had surprised Bucky with in the kitchen; Bucky’s hand was warm and firm on Steve’s cheek, his lips soft and ready and responsive this time. He guided Steve closer, tilting his head gently so their lips slotted together. Steve shifted to face him more, and the arm around his shoulders tightened.

The hand on Steve’s cheek gave one last caress, then slid down. The other hand came to Steve’s hair, twisting just a little, and Steve gasped. His nails dug into Bucky’s shoulder through his t-shirt. Bucky’s hand finally settled on Steve’s waist, his pinky resting on the strip of skin between the hem and the waistband of Steve’s sweats. Goosebumps prickled along Steve’s skin when Bucky stroked there gently. He shivered and Bucky pulled him closer again.

Steve wasn’t sure how long they’d been kissing, but he could have happily spent the rest of the afternoon doing so. He wanted to, wanted to pull Bucky on top of him and wrap his legs around Bucky, hold him there and kiss until they couldn’t breathe.

That plan was quickly derailed, just as Bucky’s hand was pulling Steve’s shirt higher, sliding to the small of his back, warm and broad and firm. Steve was fully ready to reciprocate, get his hands on Bucky’s big shoulders, when all four dogs sat up. Steve would have ignored the clinking of their collars, except in the next moment they were all jumping up, bounding towards the other end of the house, and then Steve heard it - the garage door opening.

“Shit!” Steve gasped and jerked back, shoving Bucky away. “Shit, my - my parents.”

Bucky blinked at him. “Oh,” he said stupidly. Then he shook his head. “Right, shit. Um--”

Steve rolled his eyes. He pushed himself off the couch, grabbing the dishes from their snacks and heading for the kitchen. After a minute, Bucky followed him in with the few pieces of trash from the living room.

“Well,” he said. He cleared his throat.

Steve bit his lip, still slick and a bit puffy. He willed away his blush as he opened the dishwasher, and couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Bucky as he reached for the mugs.

Bucky was watching him. He was smiling, a little awkward, which was something Steve hadn’t seen on him yet. There were spots of color in his cheeks, one corner of his mouth lifted a little higher than the other. It was - he was _cute_ , damn him, shuffling closer awkwardly. Steve turned away to set the mugs into the washer.

Bucky caught Steve’s wrist when he turned back to pick up a plate.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he repeated.

Steve scowled at him. “I am not flustered,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky reached out, brushing his fingers over Steve's cheek, guiding Steve up to face him. “You’re blushing.”

Steve’s hands landed on Bucky's chest and his face was already getting warmer. He forced himself not to lean into the touch. “So are you,” he said instead, looking at the spots of color on Bucky's cheeks. “So are you flustered too?”

“Me? Never. Cool as a cucumber, baby.”

Steve scoffed, and then they were kissing again, Bucky’s hands on Steve’s waist immediately pulling their hips together. Steve kept his hands on Bucky's chest, leaning away just enough that Bucky had to chase his lips. Bucky made an impatient noise in his throat and Steve smirked, opening his mouth--

Someone cleared their throat. “Boys.”

They jumped apart, whipping to face Steve's mother, standing on the other side of the island. With his grandmother. Both of them were smirking as Steve and Bucky shuffled apart. Steve’s whole face was on fire. A glance at Bucky informed him that at least he wasn’t the only one.

“Hi, grandma,” Steve said weakly. “This is. Um. This is Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends thank you all for waiting for this update! 2018 has pretty much sucked so far for me (sleeping through the last three months would have been amazing) but other than that i have no excuses. but thank you!!! you're all a gift. a blessing. beautiful. i'm thrilled that you're all here and love it so much and leave such lovely comments
> 
> that being said i did also get a few comments on the last chapter asking when i was going to update and such. please don't leave comments like this. i am delighted that you all like this so much, but i juggle full time school and work and family etc, and those kinds of comments make me feel really guilty about not updating or writing regularly. i love comments and feedback, but if you want to let me know that you're back and still looking forward to it, tell me you reread it or something, or come over to [the blue hellsite](http://lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com/) and shoot me an ask and we can gush (or any of my other fic, too) (no spoilers)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy hummed, smirking just a little. Her voice was lower when she spoke again. “You know, Steve, I was sure that you had made ‘James’ up just to get Sarah and the aunts off your case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up fam it's may, is anyone still experiencing winter?

Steve’s grandparents loved Bucky, even despite the fact that his grandma had walked in on them making out in the kitchen. Or maybe it was because of that, Steve couldn’t be too sure with his family. Any opportunity to make a joke at Steve’s expense, he figured. It was hardly fair, but that was how they were.

Steve’s only consolation was that Bucky - previously so keen on embarrassing Steve - seemed equally as ashamed in this situation, rather than joining in on the teasing.

“Who could blame you, really?” Grandma Rose asked at dinner after making yet another innuendo about keeping their hands to themselves. Steve buried his face in his hands and groaned while his parents laughed. Bucky and Grandpa Grant were discussing Bucky’s car, a conversation that went right over Steve’s head, but Bucky paused for a moment to rest his hand on Steve’s thigh consolingly.

“You do have good taste, at least when it comes to looks,” Grandma continued.

“Grandma,” Steve said desperately. “Please.”

She ignored him. “And there’s something to be said for a man who can fix his own car, and not just because it keeps costs down. Right, Grant?”

“Of course,” Grant said and continued interrogating Bucky.

“Oh my _God,_ ” Steve said, trying to stop his own laughter. Grandpa wasn’t even listening, but a quick glance at Bucky told Steve that he was. As embarrassing as the conversation was, at least he wasn’t alone. And anyway, hearing Grandpa just agree with whatever subtly dirty joke Grandma was making would always be funny. “Mom, stop laughing, you’re only encouraging her.”

“They have good hands,” Grandma said mildly.

This time Steve couldn’t hide his laughter. “You know, I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” He pushed his plate away. “Let’s go play a game so I can feel like I’m winning something.”

“You’re sleeping with that and you don’t think you’re winning something?” Grandma said, standing up as well. “It’s so cute how you think you’ll win though.”

It was true, Steve had an absolutely awful poker face, but so did Grandma.

“You won’t win either, though,” Steve said, taking her hand as they headed to the living room. “That’s what matters.”

Grandma laughed. “Oh, we raised you right, didn’t we?”

“You are an absolutely terrible better,” Bucky said four hands later when Steve went all in on his worst and final hand of the night.

Steve shrugged, tossing his cards into the pile. “I lasted longer than Grandma, though,” he said, nodding to where she was trying to convince his grandpa to go all in next round because she could “feel that the cards were in his favor.”

“At least there’s no real money at stake,” Bucky said, patting his knee. “Remind me never to take you to a casino, though.”

“Will do.”

They moved on from cards after Joe and Grant started to trade chips back and forth with no likelihood of either of them winning soon. Steve and Bucky cleaned everyone up in Pictionary and then were accused of cheating, so the teams were switched around until it was time to change for Mass.

“We make a good team,” Bucky said as he followed Steve up to his room. “We’re on the same wavelength.”

“I guess so,” Steve said. He was expecting it to be uncomfortable as they changed, alone for the first time since his grandparents had showed up, but Bucky was mostly quiet as he shrugged out of his t-shirt and pulled on an undershirt and a nice blue sweater. Steve tried not to look.

Steve’s grandparents were bickering about how they were getting to church when they got back downstairs. Mostly it seemed like Grandpa was pouting because they were going to be taking one car and he wouldn’t get to ride in Bucky’s while Grandma rolled her eyes at him.

“I’ll take you for a drive before you leave,” Bucky said. “Promise.”

“What is it about cars that turns men into boys?”

“You’re the one who was so pleased about my hands earlier,” Grandpa said. His face was completely neutral when he said it, but Steve could just catch the little glint in his eye that turned into laughter when Grandma rounded on him and smacked his arm.

“I like that you can fix the cars,” she said primly. “Cuts down on costs.”

“C’mon,” Steve said, taking Bucky’s hand. “Outside, before they get gross.”

Bucky laughed but let Steve pull him to the porch.

“They’re cute,” he said. “You can tell how much they love each other. It’s nice.”

“Even when they’re being gross?” Steve asked, leaning against the railing. They were still holding hands. Steve told himself it was because it was cold out.

“Especially then,” Bucky said. “That’s how you know. Old people deserve to be affectionate too, Stevie. We can only hope to be like them someday.”

Steve was saved from having to respond by the rest of his family finally coming out with them and his father herding them all into the car.

It was about 30 minutes to the church, which they spent 20 of arguing about what music to play. Bucky mostly just listened and laughed in the backseat with Steve, holding his hand across the bench seat. They got through one Christmas carol and half of _Come Sail Away_ before they arrived at the church.

“Busy,” Bucky commented, admiring at the candles and the strings of lights and people milling about outside.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked, suddenly concerned that Bucky felt like he’d been forced to come with them somehow.

“Sure,” Bucky said, looking at him with an eyebrow up. “I’ve just never been to a church during a mass before.”

“Oh. Are you sure? We don’t have to go in, if you’re uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to -”

“Steve,” Bucky cut him off. He laughed a little and took Steve’s hand. “Seriously, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure I’m not actually going to combust when I walk in or something. I’m fine with being here, promise.”

He squeezed Steve’s hand, and Steve finally nodded. “Alright. But if you want to leave, at any time, just say.”

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “I’m starting to think you’re trying to use me as an excuse to get out of Mass.”

Steve stuck his tongue out. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be here.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. “If I want to leave, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.”

“Steve!”

Steve turned to see Peggy and Gabe heading towards them, waving.

“Hey, Peggy,” Steve said, stepping into her hug. He turned to Gabe after she kissed his cheek and pulled him into a hug. “Gabe. How have you guys been?”

“Oh, you know,” she said lightly. “Back for less than two days and ready to go back home. Who’s this?”

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky said. “Boyfriend.”

“Buck, this is Peggy, my oldest friend, and her husband Gabe.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Bucky said, shaking their hands.

“Sarah finally convinced you to bring him?” Peggy asked.

Steve shrugged, then tilted his head. “Wait, how did you know?”

Peggy rolled her eyes hugely and sighed. Gabe laughed. “Elizabeth keeps Peggy updated on your dating life because she’s still secretly hoping you two will get married and have babies.”

Steve laughed. “Have you explained to her that our children would be the most hard-headed children in the history of forever?”

“Multiple times!” Peggy cried, throwing her hands up. “She seems to think that because she raised me it would be fine.” She shook her head, then looked at where Steve and Bucky’s hands were linked again. She got a glint in her eye that Steve knew meant trouble. “So how did you two meet?”

“Dog park,” Steve said carefully. “Yoshi loves his dog, Lana.”

“Cute,” Gabe said. He nudged Peggy with an elbow.

Peggy hummed, smirking just a little. Her voice was lower when she spoke again. “You know, Steve, I was sure that you had made ‘James’ up just to get Sarah and the aunts off your case.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Bucky started to laugh. Steve sighed and glanced around. His family was well out of earshot, and no one around was paying much attention. He grinned ruefully and lowered his voice.

“Keep it down, Pegs,” he said. “I found him on Tinder four days ago and the crazy asshole agreed to spend a week upstate with a stranger for free food.”

Peggy joined in with Bucky’s laughter. Gabe sighed and shook his head.

“Damn,” he muttered. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed Peggy a twenty. “When am I gonna stop betting against you?”

“Never, darling, and you know it,” she said sweetly, kissing his cheek as she tucked the bill into her purse.

“I like her,” Bucky declared. “How did you figure it out?”

“Steve and I may not be in the best of touch, but I can’t remember the last time he didn’t text me about meeting someone,” Peggy said.

Steve scowled at her. “I don’t keep in touch because you’re the worst,” he grumbled.

They sat near the back of the church with Peggy and Gabe for Mass. Bucky was mostly quiet through the whole thing, still holding Steve’s hand. All four of them hung back for communion, and were some of the first to shuffle out an hour later.

“Well,” Bucky said, stretching his arms up once they were outside again. “We weren’t struck by lightning.” He looked at them and grinned. “I knew yours was a false prophet.”

All three of them burst out laughing.

***

The dogs were ecstatic when they returned home. Steve and Bucky were immediately elected to be the ones to wait up while the four of them did their business so Steve’s parents could go to bed.

“I like your friends,” Bucky said, pulling off his shoes. “Are they coming to the New Year’s Eve party?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said. “Most of the town is. It’s a big deal.”

“I can’t wait to get smashed with them,” Bucky said. Steve snorted. “Seriously. Peggy seems great. I bet she’s got the best stories about you. How long did you guys date?”

Steve laughed. “Barely three months. We were really close but didn’t decide to try it out til we got to college. It was kinda weird and we’re both way too stubborn and we just fought all the time. Which was basically what our friendship was too, but it felt different when we were dating and neither of us liked it. You know that thing when you love someone but adding that one extra thing somehow changes it enough that it doesn’t work?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Love, but not in love.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I think we just thought it would work because everyone around us already thought it was true. Friends and family and everyone we met at college.” He shrugged. “Anyway, we realized that if we tried to force it we were just going to be miserable so we went back to being friends.”

“And apparently her mom never got over it.”

Steve snorted. “Guess not. It’s alright, she and Gabe will make beautiful spy babies who will rule the world.”

“Oh, your friends are spies, too?” Buck asked.

“I can’t think of any other reason to move to D.C., and every time I ask Peggy just says they work for the government,” Steve said. “Why, you got spy friends?”

“Yeah, my friend Natasha. And maybe her boyfriend Clint, who’s a complete disaster but I think that’s just a cover.”

“Wonder if they know each other,” Steve said.

“Well,” Bucky sighed. “We would never find out.”

***

Steve was up before Bucky the next morning. The dogs were no longer between them, curled together on the dog bed in the corner, snoring. Bucky was on his chest, half his face mashed into the pillow and his mouth slightly open. He was snoring too, quietly. Steve snorted and reached out to poke his shoulder.

“Buck.” No response. “Buck.” Steve poked him harder “Bucky. _Bucky_.”

Bucky groaned and mumbled something unintelligible. He didn’t even open his eyes.

“Bucky, wake up,” Steve said.

This time the mumble definitely sounded like _what the fuck._

“Buck,” Steve whined. He laid his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and shook him gently. “It’s Christmas.”

“Santa isn’t real,” Bucky said and turned away.

Steve laughed out loud, then rolled onto Bucky’s back. Bucky groaned again, significantly more whiny this time.

“Are you ticklish?” Steve asked him, resting his chin on the meat of Bucky’s shoulder.

“No,” Bucky said. “What is it with you Christmas people and being so awake today?”

“The excitement never goes away,” Steve said. “Even when you’re too old to believe in Santa.”

“I hate it. I hate you. Christmas is stupid.”

“Don’t be a Scrooge,” Steve said.

“Bah humbug.”

Steve muffled his laughter in Bucky’s shoulder for a moment.

“I’ll make you coffee,” he said. “And whatever you want for breakfast.”

Bucky was quiet, and for a moment Steve thought he had fallen asleep again. Then he heaved a huge sigh and stuffed his arms under the pillow. He opened his eyes to glower at Steve.

“Is anyone else even up?”

“Probably,” Steve said. “And really, you’re not even going to make a dirty joke about breakfast?”

“Too tired,” Bucky said. His eyelids fluttered shut and then open again. He yawned. “And I don’t like you.”

Steve bit his lip, then rolled off Bucky and onto his feet before he gave into the urge to kiss the sleepy glare off his face.

“Come on, everyone likes gifts,” he said.

He was expecting Bucky to just lay there and complain some more, but he sat up slowly and blinked at Steve. It was - almost unbearably cute. He sat on the edge of the bed for several moments, then flopped onto his back with a groan.

“God,” he said. “It’s a real good thing you’re cute.”

Steve snorted and continued getting dressed. Lana got up and onto the bed with Bucky and he curled up around her. Steve could hear him telling her all about how Christmas was fake. Her little tail wiggled and she squirmed closer.

“Come on,” Steve said when he had pulled on a shirt and hoodie and socks. “Breakfast and coffee, I promised. What do you want to eat?”

“Can you make poached eggs?”

“Yeah.”

“That.” Bucky groaned and pushed himself up. “Please.”

Steve snorted and left him to get dressed. The rest of the family was already in the kitchen, just starting coffee. Mom looked about as sleepy as Bucky, but his grandma and dad were flitting about the kitchen, humming.

“Merry Christmas!” Grandma said, kissing his cheek. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Getting dressed,” Steve said. “He’s not a morning person.”

Grandma hummed. “Coffee? Eggs?”

Steve nodded, already heading for the fridge. “Poached.”

He fed the dogs and worked on breakfast for himself and Bucky with his dad and grandma. The three of them chatted and hummed along to the Christmas CD. Sarah sipped her coffee and shared the paper with Grandpa, and nothing but a physical touch to the shoulder would get their attention.

It was an old tradition, as easy and warm to settle into as a favorite sweater. It always made Steve feel both nostalgic and very young, a quiet kind of joy settling into his chest. It was barely even a thought when Bucky finally came down, yawning, to give him a kiss as Steve handed over a mug of coffee. Bucky mostly looked bewildered, still half-asleep; Steve blushed, realizing what he’d done. He smiled and played it off, pushing the sugar and creamer towards Bucky.

“Eggs are almost done,” he said. “Toast?”

Bucky cleared his throat, blinking. He was blushing, just a little. “Yeah.”

Once they had all eaten - if that was the right term for Bucky inhaling his eggs and toast in about four bites - they migrated to the living room. Steve hung back with Bucky just slightly, lowering his voice.

“Why are you so tired today?” he asked. “Yesterday you were completely ready to make fun of me all morning.”

Bucky yawned. “Yesterday we had gone to bed at nine-thirty, and I’d been up for twenty minutes before you blew your dragon breath into my face. Last night we were up late and you woke me up early.”

“I got your first message at four AM and you responded to mine at ten!”

Bucky thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah. That’s because I hadn’t gone to sleep.” He grinned.

“Boys, come on!” Grandma called. “I want to open presents now, chop chop!”

Bucky perked up as presents were passed around and opened. Steve’s parents loved the gift basket of fruit and cheese and sausages that Bucky brought them, and surprised both Steve and Bucky with a new scarf for Bucky.

“I got you this,” Steve said, setting his gift in Bucky’s lap.

“Thanks, baby,” Bucky said, examining the box. He shook it gently, weighed it in his hands, then set it down and ripped into the paper. He blinked at the box for a moment, and then his face lit up.

“What is it?” Grandma asked.

“It’s a mug that you can build on,” Steve told her. Bucky grinned and pulled open the box and lifted the mug out of its styrofoam casing for everyone to see. He passed it around, then turned to Steve.

“This is great, Stevie,” he said. “I can drink out of _a rocket_.”

Steve laughed and Bucky’s grin widened. He leaned in and kissed Steve, then pushed Steve’s gift box towards him on the coffee table.

“Your turn,” he said, and kissed Steve again.

Steve cleared his throat and pulled the box closer. It was flat and wide, like a gift box for clothing, but much heavier. Steve took his time with the wrapping paper, mostly because it made Bucky sigh impatiently.

Inside, nestled in packing peanuts, was a glass cup, except all the sides were flat, meeting at several edges. The base was metal. Next to it lay a polished wooden block with a metal plate set into the top. Steve tilted his head.

“What is it?”

“I noticed your desk is so plain,” Bucky said, scooting closer. He lifted the wooden block and arranged Steve’s hands around it so it was flat, metal plate up. “And I found this cool air planter online, but it was 300 bucks, but it’s just maglev, right? And I thought, I have all the things I need at work to just make this myself.” Bucky picked up the pot as he spoke, looking at the metal base and fiddling with something. “So I made it.” He settled the pot about eight inches over the plate and let go slowly.

The pot wobbled a bit, then settled in and started to turn slowly in midair. Everyone gasped and started to clap.

“Bucky, that’s incredible!” Sarah said.

“You made that?” Grandpa demanded at the same time.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, suddenly shy. “I mean, I didn’t come up with the idea. But I - here.” He reached out and pulled a pair of metal brackets out of the box and set them on the table. He turned and took the pot and the plate from Steve gently and moved them, holding the plate under the coffee table and resettling the pot.

“No artist likes having anything take up space on their desk, right? So I made it a little stronger than the one online so it can go through a table, and the brackets are to hang it underneath, or next to the desk, if there’s no flat spot big enough.”

Everyone around them was still exclaiming over the gift, but Steve could only stare, mouth slightly open. Bucky had _made_ this for him. In - four days? Three? To everyone else it was sweet and thoughtful but…

“You made it?” Steve asked, finally looking at Bucky. He was blushing.

“It - work is really slow this time of year,” he said, looking away. He set the plate on the table, leaving the pot to rotate over it. “And I had most of the materials I needed already. I mean…$300 seemed a little excessive for a gift, but it wasn’t too hard. I mean, you seem like a plant guy, just, who has space, right, and -”

Steve cut him off, pulling him into a kiss. Bucky made a muffled noise of surprise, then relaxed, hands landing on Steve’s hips.

“Thank you,” Steve said. “I love it.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Of course. You’re welcome.”

He was smiling too, bright and a little lopsided and Steve’s stomach gave a little flop. He kissed Bucky again and thought, _Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets play a game called spot the retcon: i slightly alter something that wasn't previously mentioned and everyone in the story acts like it was. you can come give your answers at my [tumblr!](http://lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, no,” Bucky said. He pulled Steve closer again, then nudged his nose against Steve’s cheek. “Eyes on me. Watching your feet isn’t gonna help. Listen to the music and just move.”
> 
> Steve scowled. “Fine, but don’t complain to me about your sore toes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *coughs awkwardly*

Steve headed for the shower as soon they were done with presents. Bucky bundled himself up on the couch with a blanket, half-asleep again, while Sarah and Grandpa flipped the TV to the 24-hour marathon of  _ A Christmas Story  _ that they watched every year. Steve took one last look at the air planter, still rotating gently in the air, then fled upstairs.

God, Bucky  _ made  _ that. Sometime in the three days between when they had met and when they’d left Brooklyn, he’d sat down and thought not only that Steve needed a present, but also that he would just make it himself. Who did that? And how had he managed to make something so great, too? They barely knew each other; by all rights he should have gotten Steve something boring like a scarf or a gift card but--he made a fucking magnetic planter.  _ Who did that? _

(There was also the promised pair of socks. They were thick and lumpy with pug faces across blue and green stripes and they went past his ankles. They were hideous. Steve kind of loved them.)

Steve snatched up his phone while he gathered his clothes and unlocked it on his way to the bathroom. There was a new message from Will waiting for him. Perfect.

**Will:** Merry Christmas! How is your morning going?

**Me:** Great! Finished opening presents, now waiting/prepping for the rest of the family to start showing up.

**Will:** Do you have a big family?

The reply came while Steve was in the shower. He wrote back one-handed while he toweled his hair off. 

**Me:** Yeah, lots of aunts and uncles and cousins. What about you?

**Will:** Same! Big family, all of us usually go to my grandparents place for Christmas dinner. 

**Me:** Yeah, most of my extended family comes here, including my grandparents. It’s exhausting.

**Will:** Oh haha I really like it

Steve frowned at the message. Something about the way it was phrased made him feel - defensive. He wasn't saying he didn't like his family or being around them. It was just tiring. That was normal.

**Me:** I mean I love my family and being around them

**Me:** There’s just a lot of people and that can be tiring, you know?

**Me:** It’s hectic.

**WIll:** Oh

Steve stared at his phone. What was he supposed to say next? It wasn’t like a disagreement, not really. But he felt...reluctant. He didn’t know if he even wanted to say anything. Did he need to? After a minute of debating he closed the app and finished getting dressed.

When he got back downstairs, Bucky was no longer on the couch. The movie was still playing, but Grandpa was the only one there, the paper open in front of him again.

“Where’s Bucky?” 

“He went back upstairs to nap.” Grandpa didn’t even look up from the page.

Steve nodded. There was still an hour or two before his family would start arriving for dinner, so he left Bucky to sleep and went to the kitchen where Grandma and his parents were starting on their contributions to the dinner that night.

“Steve, are you going to make the potatoes?” Sarah asked. She was chopping up celery and apples for a waldorf salad. 

“Of course. Same as every year. But what can I help with now?”

Joe set him to chopping vegetables for an enormous green salad, and an hour before people were set to start arriving, Steve went upstairs to wake Bucky. He was wrapped up completely in the comforter, Lana next to him with her chin resting on what might have been his waist. She lifted her head when Steve came in and wriggled a little.

“Bucky, you should get up,” Steve said, sitting down next to him and scratching Lana’s head. There was no response.

“Bucky, come on, my family is getting here soon and it’ll be easier to introduce you one section at a time than all at once.” Steve pushed on the blanket lump. It whined back at him and finally unfolded enough that Bucky could poke bleary eyes out. His hair was a mess. Steve stifled a laugh.

“How many of them are there, anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Mom has two sisters and a brother, and Dad has two brothers. Plus all my cousins. Not everyone will be here, but a lot.”

Bucky frowned and shuffled out of the blanket nest a little more. “How did you end up an only child?”

Steve smirked. “With that many siblings, would  _ you _ want to have a bunch of rugrats running around?”

“I  _ have  _ that many siblings,” Bucky said. “Three baby sisters.” He managed to shrug, and then finally wriggled out of the cocoon enough that he could sit up and stretch. His hair was a  _ sight _ .  “I took care of them all growing up, and it probably shoulda made me hate kids, but it didn’t work. Love ‘em.” He shrugged again. “Only two though,” he added, finally getting up.

“That’s it?” Steve asked. “You don’t want a whole herd?”

“If there’s more than two, then you’re always outnumbered. Not that there’s ever really enough hands when it comes to children, but better not to take away my only advantage.”

"You really think you’re going to stay that logical when the baby fever kicks in?”

“Not likely,” Bucky laughed. “But if I say it enough now, it might stick. And hopefully I have a partner with a little more self-restraint than me.” He smiled at Steve, then reached for his bag. “What about you? Kids?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve admitted. “Being an only child was a bit lonely, but I’m not really used to kids either. I like them, but they’re a little intimidating.”

Bucky nodded. “Just gotta know how to handle them, I think. But it’s not like you have to decide right now, right?”

“The way my mom carries on, you’d think there was a time limit. You see how she is about meeting my significant others.”

Bucky laughed. “Well, I don’t think she’ll scare off the right person, right?”

Steve stared at him, watched him root around in his bag and eventually grab a pair of socks. He looked down at his hands when Bucky looked at him, still rubbing Lana’s ears. “Hopefully not.”

***

The house was almost stiflingly full by the time everyone showed up for the evening. It wasn’t even close to all of Steve’s cousins, aunts, and uncles, but it was certainly enough to keep the noise level up and the house warm.

Steve was back in the kitchen, set up with about two dozen boiled potatoes to peel and mash. It was a bit of a process, but it meant that Steve got to sit and watch everyone coming and going around him, just like every year. It was the main reason he made the potatoes every time. He got to watch everyone and listen to the jokes and the music, smell the food, just be a part of the happy chaos and do his job. 

The only difference this year was that Steve had Bucky along, which meant he was getting grilled even harder than usual about his love life. There were always some questions about who he was seeing and when the family would meet him, but with Bucky around it seemed everyone had something to say or ask. 

Bucky, unfortunately, wasn’t even there to field any of the questions, because he was too busy playing with the kids that had arrived. He was a big hit with them and their parents, of course, and Steve was trying very hard not to think about how cute he looked with three kids trying to climb him. 

“So what kind of name is  _ Bucky _ , anyway?” Carol asked. She was leaning on the counter next to Steve with a glass of wine, having firmly refused to help with the potatoes.

“It’s short for Buchanan, his middle name.”

Carol paused, and then she snorted. “James Buchanan? Seriously? Like the president.”

Steve shrugged, smiling. “I know, I thought it was fake too, but it’s on his driver’s license and everything.”

“Who names their kid that?”

“Buck’s parents?”

“And who decides that  _ Bucky _ is the best option out of all the possible nicknames?”

“My grandpa, who was already Jim Barnes.” Bucky pressed himself to Steve’s other side as he spoke, smiling mildly. Steve leaned back into him almost on instinct.

Carol raised an eyebrow, and Steve decided to cut in before she said something really rude. He could see it coming. Stubbornness and a big mouth were just some of the wonderful family traits she and Steve shared. 

“You need something Buck? Where’s your army of children?”

Bucky smiled, grabbing Steve’s hand that wasn’t holding the potato masher and twining their fingers together. 

“Dance with me.”

Steve balked. “What? No - I can’t.” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun, this is a great song.” Bucky was so close Steve could smell him. It was--terrible.

“I’m cooking.”

“Cooking can wait for a dance with a good looking boy,” Grandma called from the other side of the kitchen island. 

At that moment, Auntie Lynn appeared out of nowhere, swiping the masher out of Steve’s hand with a bright smile. 

“Or I can just take over,” she said, and wedged herself into Steve’s spot, pushing him and Bucky away from the kitchen.

Bucky laughed, wrapping his other arm around Steve’s waist. “Thank you, Lynn,” he said, and dragged Steve to the living room.

“No, Buck, really, I - I can’t dance,” Steve protested weakly, while also realizing that he was pushing himself against Bucky, enjoying the strong arm around his waist. 

Bucky scoffed. “Sure you can. Nothing too fast or fancy. And besides,” he nudged Steve back some, his left hand resting on Steve’s waist, the right shifting to cradle Steve’s left. “I’m a great leader. Piece of cake, sweetheart.”

“I’m gonna step on your feet,” Steve said as Bucky swayed a little, then stepped back, pulling Steve along and spinning them slightly. Steve immediately looked down at his feet, face burning, trying to match his steps with Bucky’s.

“No, no,” Bucky said. He pulled Steve closer again, then nudged his nose against Steve’s cheek. “Eyes on me. Watching your feet isn’t gonna help. Listen to the music and just move.”

Steve scowled. “Fine, but don’t complain to me about your sore toes.”

Bucky just laughed, leading Steve slowly around the living room, their bodies swaying together. Steve would have thought that just looking at Bucky would only mess him up more, but it actually was just distracting enough that he could just let it go. Bucky was smiling at him, and his hand was warm and firm on Steve’s waist, and even though Steve could feel his whole family watching and he was blushing like a preteen, he was still somehow just letting Bucky twirl him around the living room. Like it really was as easy as Bucky said, just letting him take the lead, enjoying the dance and the music.

“Oh,” Steve said when he recognized the song. “How did  _ Night and Day  _ end up with the Christmas stuff?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. His cheeks were a little pink. “Probably just Pandora’s weird algorithm, no one paying attention or giving it thumbs up or whatever.”

“Well...it is a good song,” Steve said. 

Bucky nodded, and then the horns were kicking into the intro of the song. Bucky grinned, then spun Steve out and tugged him back in. Steve made a startled noise, sure he was going to trip, but Bucky’s hand landed on his waist, turning him so Steve’s arms were crossed over his chest, his back pressed to Bucky’s chest. 

“Perfect,” Bucky said, right against Steve’s ear. Steve turned his head to look, and their faces were so close, noses almost brushing. Steve’s breath caught, his face absolutely burning, and did the first thing he could think of to distract himself.

“ _ Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom-tom, when the jungle showers fall.” _ He started a little late, stumbling to catch up with the vocals, find the key, and keep his own breathing even enough to sing. 

Bucky’s eyebrows went up. “Look at you,” he exclaimed, and spun Steve back out from his hold, let go of one hand, then pulled them back chest to chest. “Not too bad, pal.”

“Next time pick a duet,” Steve said, grinning.

“Oh no.” Bucky shook his head and spun Steve under his arm. “You can add singing to the extremely short list of things I can’t do.”

“Ha!” Steve felt strangely triumphant about that. “You’re just showing off anyway,” he said.

Bucky laughed. “Maybe a little, but at least it makes us both look good.” Steve snorted. “You could keep singing though, show off a little too. It’s nice.”

It was an easy, simple compliment, but Steve still ducked his head a little. He kept singing as Bucky continued to spin them around the living room, smiling broadly. Steve was a little breathless with it all.

“Ready for the big finish?” Bucky asked as the second to last verse was ending. He spun Steve again and pulled him back in, Steve’s left hand landing on his chest.

“Guess so,” Steve gasped, then pressed against Bucky to sing the next line right into his ear. “ _ There’s an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me.” _

Bucky actually missed a few beats, his breath hitching against Steve’s ear. Then his cheek lifted as he smiled, brushing Steve’s, and he pushed Steve into another spin under his arm. He dropped Steve’s hand at the last moment, leaving him frozen until Bucky did his own little turn that put him right back against Steve. His arm went around Steve’s waist, and the other hand came up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

Steve’s hands landed on Bucky’s shoulders; he was dizzy with the intimacy, the feeling of Bucky’s arms around him, his big hand in Steve’s hair. Steve was breathless as he sang the last lines of the song with his lips brushing Bucky’s, unable to break the eye contact. 

Bucky swayed them back and forth as the horns tapered out, spinning them around one more time before slowly dipping Steve over his leg. He was smiling hugely, his cheeks pink, and Steve couldn’t stop his own ridiculous smile from spreading. Bucky pulled him back up and slotted their lips together, tilting Steve’s head with the hand still in his hair. Steve melted against him, helpless, too enchanted to do anything else.

The kiss stayed mostly chaste, except for one quick nip to Steve’s lip before Bucky pulled back. Steve was absolutely burning, already blushing to his toes, but it was only once they broke apart that he realized half the room was  _ clapping _ , applauding like they were on a stage. Steve looked around, eyes wide, and stepped away from Bucky, laughing and rubbing his neck.

Bucky just grinned at him and tugged him into a bow, fingers twined together.

“C’mon, Stevie, gotta give the people what they want, right?”

“You’re a jerk,” Steve grumbled, mortified, but played along. “You picked a romantic song on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Those are the best ones, and you’re cute when you blush. Besides, your family is eating this up.” 

A part of Steve jolted at the reminder that all of this was for show. His racing heart and his blush and his fixation on how good Bucky’s hands felt were just - foolish. It was all about appearances. At least he was keeping up his end.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry everyone and thank you all so much for your patience and amazing comments. you are absolutely brilliant. welcome back to winter! hopefully this gets you in the mood? lol i'm so sorry thanks again <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve smiled. “Thanks. Everything okay? Are the skates not sharp enough? Laces too short?”
> 
> “Uh, no.” Bucky looked down again. He paused, glanced at his feet again, and then he sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.
> 
> “I have no idea,” he said, giving Steve flat look. “I don’t know how to skate.”
> 
> Steve blinked at him for a moment, and then started to laugh quietly. Bucky’s face went from a little bleak to thunderous in a moment, and Steve forced himself to stop.
> 
> “I’m sorry,” he said, unable to stop smiling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. I didn’t--I just--but you’re such a good dancer.”
> 
> “Yeah, in shoes,” Bucky said, looking at Steve like he was an idiot. “On the ground. Not on questionably frozen water with knives strapped to my feet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check it out an update less than 3 months later!! a little late for christmas or hannukah, buuuut we can call it a three kings day gift instead
> 
> unbeta'd and probably full of typos because i'm a mess with no impulse control or patience :)
> 
> On a more serious and related note, the first scene in this chapter has joke about religion which I didn't think it was offensive, but again, I am not Jewish or Catholic. I appreciate any and all readers who are and who are willing to let me know if this crosses a line!

Steve was more than a little bit tipsy when he and Bucky finally excused themselves. Half of the family had gone to bed or gone home already - the only people still up were cousins and Grandma Rose. Everyone was deep in the wine, and Steve was half asleep against Bucky’s side, Bucky’s arm thrown over his shoulders. There had been--a lot of touching all night, from the dancing to the casual brushes at dinner and as they cleared the table, even a few cheek kisses. That as much as the wine was making Steve light-headed, elated and warm with the affection.

Bucky set his glass down, shaking his head when Carol offered to refill it. He turned to Steve, curling his arm tighter around his shoulders.

“You look tired,” he said.

“A little.”

“We should go to bed.”

“But I’m comfy here.” Steve frowned at him, pouting drunkenly.

Bucky laughed. “That’s good, but I hate to tell you that your head is very heavy. I can’t feel my fingers.”

Steve scowled harder. “Rude! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You looked so cozy, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Well, now I’m just getting mixed signals,” Steve declared. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Bucky’s smile just got bigger, and then he leaned in and pecked Steve on the mouth. Steve blinked, but Bucky was leaning back before he could do anything else, pushing Steve up and pulling his arm away.

“C’mon,” he said, shaking out his hand. “Let’s let the dogs out and go to bed.”

A chorus of _ooohs_ went up from the gathered family, sprawled on the furniture and floor around them. Steve rolled his eyes, blushing when Grandma Rose winked at him.

“Get some!” Steve’s cousin Peter yelled, and then snorted into his glass of wine. He was only 17 and weighed about a hundred pounds; it wasn’t surprising to see him like this by the end of the night.

The comments were unnecessary though.

Steve got up and shoved Peter’s head as he walked by, which only made him fall sideways and laugh harder. Bucky followed him, also grinning. Steve kissed Grandma on the cheek as he passed her chair. She patted his shoulder, still looking smug, then grabbed Bucky’s hand when he made to move past her as well.

“Excuse me?” She tapped her cheek, giving him a stern look. Bucky blinked once, then his smile grew and he leaned down to kiss her cheek as well. She smiled and nodded, patting his cheek once.

“Good night, boys. Try not to wake anyone up.”

Steve sighed deeply and turned away. “Good _night_ , Grandma,” he said, and whistled. Yoshi and Lana looked up from where they were stretched out in front of the fire and got up slowly, stretching as they followed Steve and Bucky out of the living room.

They didn’t even bother putting on coats or shoes, just opened the door for the dogs and waited in the entryway. Neither dog seemed interested in doing much playing; they did their business quickly and trotted back inside, shaking ice water off their paws.

“Definitely time for bed, then,” Bucky said, grinning as both dogs went straight for the stairs.

Steve laughed quietly. “Apparently so. I guess all that attention and food wears a dog out, huh?”

Bucky started humming “Jingle Bell Rock” as they followed the dogs up and Steve groaned. He’d been singing it all evening.

“Will you _stop_?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just so catchy!” Bucky cried, laughing. “I don’t even know when I’m doing it, I swear. It’s like I’ve been possessed.”

"I didn't think the ghosts of Christmas past would show up for you," Steve said, letting them into his room.

Bucky snorted, already starting to pull off his sweater before Steve even shut the door. "I didn't think that's what they did to Scrooge, but it's certainly an interesting take on a classic tale."

Steve laughed, watching as Bucky’s sweater got stuck on his head. One elbow was poking out at his waist, stretching the bottom of the sweater and showing off his thick waist. Steve swallowed, unable to look away. Bucky tugged at the neck and cursed again, and Steve finally stepped up to pull the sweater over his elbow for him, still laughing.

“Hold still,” he said when Bucky wriggled a little. Bucky stopped moving and Steve was able to pull both sleeves off and finally tug the sweater over his head. Bucky winced a little when a few hairs came with it, but smiled at Steve, red-faced.

“My hero,” he said, and batted his eyelashes. “So daring and noble.”

Steve snorted and dropped the sweater, trying not to look at Bucky's bare chest. _Trying._  “It was a sweater, Buck, don’t lay it on too thick.”

“No, no,” Bucky said, his smile getting wider. He stepped closer and brought his hands to Steve’s waist. “I must repay your kindness.”

Steve was about to protest again, maybe roll his eyes, when Bucky leaned in and kissed him, stepping forward a little more so they were pressed together. Bucky had his eyes closed and Steve blinked at him, shocked into stillness, and then melted into it. He sighed and opened his mouth more under Bucky’s and let his hands rest on Bucky’s arms.

He could taste the wine on Bucky’s tongue, and chocolate, could just barely smell cinnamon. The kiss was slow and deep, warming Steve’s whole body and sending a little jolt through his stomach when Bucky nipped at his lips.

Bucky pulled away first, stepping back slightly and licking his lips. He was panting, spots of pink high in his cheeks that Steve was fairly sure weren’t from the wine.

“Thanks,” Bucky said after a long moment of staring.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from grinning, warm all over. “Anytime.”

They took turns in the bathroom and changing, then crawled into bed with the dogs between them again. Steve was still buzzing from the kiss and the wine. It was like he could still taste Bucky’s lips, even after brushing and flossing his teeth, and he was bubbly and warm through his chest and stomach, his fingers and lips practically aching with how badly he wanted to touch Bucky again.

Steve buried both hands in Yoshi’s neck scruff and forced back an elated giggle when he thought about how Bucky’s lips felt again.

***

Steve woke up slowly the next morning, a little hungover from all the wine and the late night. He was clutching a pillow to his face, and it took him several minutes realize it was probably Bucky’s. Steve lifted his head up and found the other side of the bed empty, still rumpled but cold when he touched it.

He could still smell Bucky’s cologne on the pillow and he was groggy, so he let his head fall back, burying his face in the pillow again and inhaling. A little embarrassing, probably, but it wasn’t like anyone was here to see.

Staying in bed with this pillow against his face seemed like the best activity for the day, but Steve’s mouth was also dry and sour, and after a few minutes the smell of eggs and coffee permeated the scent of Bucky on the pillow. Steve’s stomach rumbled abruptly, and thirst and hunger finally won out over staying in bed where it was warm.

Steve pushed himself up with a groan, dragging a hoodie on over his t-shirt and, after a moment’s consideration, the socks Bucky had gotten him. They were extremely ugly, but thick and soft and Steve found himself smiling stupidly at the pug faces on his toes as he crossed the room. Not bad for a gag gift from a complete stranger.

Grandma and Joe were in the kitchen again, this time joined by Aunt May and Carol’s husband Rhodey. Carol was at the kitchen island between Sarah and Bucky, her hair sticking up wildly in probably the same way Steve’s was.

Bucky’s hair was pulled up in a messy bun and he was wearing a hoodie that was lined with thick, furry fleece. He was holding a cup of coffee and there was leftover pie in the tin in front of him and--

Steve made a beeline for him, getting a sleepy good morning from Teddy and Peter sprawled across the couch, watching cartoons. Bucky and Carol both turned as he approached, and Steve didn’t even think before he tucked himself against Bucky’s chest. He stuck his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck and, finding the hoodie half-unzipped, shoved his hands into the sweater.

Bucky was frozen for a moment, and then his arms circled Steve’s shoulders and he shook with quiet laughter. “Good morning.”

Steve mumbled “good morning” back, not even putting in the effort to clear his throat. With his whole face pressed against Bucky’s neck it was barely intelligible, but Steve wasn’t concerned with it. He was too busy realizing what he’d just done and grappling with the fact that Bucky wasn’t wearing a shirt under the sweater. That was...a lot to take in, this early in the morning. It was definitely too difficult to analyze the way Steve had just folded into him almost on instinct. He just looked so warm, and then Steve’s brain offered up the way Bucky’s lips felt on his the night before, and the way he tasted like chocolate and the smell of cologne on the pillow.

Steve huffed and pushed closer. He refused to think about...all of that. It was too early.

Bucky chuckled and kissed Steve’s temple. “Sleepy?”

Steve grunted and nodded once into Bucky’s neck. He could feel Bucky’s smile against the side of his head.

“Hey, Grandma, could you pour sleeping beauty here a cup of coffee?”

Steve dug his fingertips into Bucky’s sides. Bucky yelped and tried to twist away, but Steve was already wrapping him back in his arms and melting against Bucky’s chest again, half asleep.

“Punk,” Bucky muttered into his temple.

Steve emerged enough to fix his coffee up, and again when a single plate of eggs and toast was set in front of the two of them, with a smaller plate of bacon in front of Steve. There were two forks and definitely enough food for both of them.

“Sure you don’t need me to feed you too?” Bucky asked as Steve reached for one of the forks.

“Only if you want my fork in your hand.”

Bucky laughed, looked at Steve’s face, and laughed harder when Steve didn’t take it back or smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t touch your half of the plate.”

“You know there’s more, right?” Rhodey said from Steve’s other side. “No need to get violent over eggs.”

Steve shrugged. “I like to be clear in my intentions when it comes to food. No misunderstandings.”

“It’s okay, I like it when he gets all feisty,” Bucky put in. “It’s mostly a morning thing.”

Bucky was drawn into conversation with Carol about cars a few moments later. Steve stayed between his legs and half pressed against his shoulder while he ate and chatted with Rhodey about their plans for the day.

“I think we’ll go skating later,” Rhodey said. “You gone out yet?”

Steve shook his head. “I thought about it, but we had a snowball fight the first morning we were here instead.”

There was a pond behind the house, a bit smaller than a football field but big enough to have water in it year round. There were no other houses that sat directly on the pond, which froze almost completely solid for most of the winter. Steve had learned to skate there, and he brought his skates with him every year at Christmas so he could go out. He hadn’t told Bucky about it, but…

“Dad, do we still have a few pairs of old skates in the attic?”

Joe nodded over his coffee mug. “Your mother insists on keeping them even though no one uses them.”

“That isn’t true,” Sarah said. “Teddy used a pair just last year when he forgot his. And it’s not like there’s dozens up there, it’s only three pairs, just in case, and they’re in perfectly good condition.” She stuck her tongue out at Joe then turned to Steve. “Are you going to go out today?”

“Yeah, I think we should,” Steve said. He turned to Bucky. “What do you think?”

“Of what?” Bucky shrugged at him, looking baffled.

“Do you want to go ice skating today? We have extra skates in the attic. They’re a little worn, but you’d fit into mine, right?”

“Uh.” Bucky glanced down at their feet, looking hesitant. “Sure.”

Steve chalked it up to the size issue - which wasn’t an issue, since they also had an old pair of Joe and Sarah’s skates, and something was bound to fit Bucky - and smiled. “Great! We’ll go take a look after we finish eating.”

***

Steve’s old skates fit Bucky just fine, although Bucky eyed them with distrust. Steve was getting too excited to really pay it much mind as they bundled up and he led them out to the little dock on the pond. It wasn’t big enough to have fish, but they made an effort to keep the water clean enough to go swimming in the summer, and the dock made it easier to get onto the ice in the winter.

Carol and Rhodey were already out, gliding along hand in hand, chatting quietly enough that their voices didn’t carry. Steve plopped down on the end of the dock happily and started to change into his skates. Next to him, Bucky fumbled for a moment with his gloves still on before finally pulling them off, grumbling curses.

They’d had to fish out a new pair of laces for the skates, so Bucky was still lacing them up when Steve finished.

“Go on,” he said, nodding to Steve. “I’ll follow.”

“You sure you don’t want a hand?”

“Yeah I got it. You look excited, get out of here.”

Steve smiled and lowered himself off the dock and onto the ice. He kissed Bucky on the cheek, then pushed off, picking up speed as he went. Steve had spent a lot of winters just gliding around and around their little pond, alone and with friends, cold air biting at his cheeks and nose. It made him feel like he was a teenager again, out of school on winter break, with absolutely no responsibilities for the day and able to just relax and skate as long as he wanted.

It took Steve several turns around the pond to realize that Bucky hadn’t caught up with him yet. He looked up and around, finding Bucky still at the dock. He’d lowered himself to the ice, but he was just standing there, holding onto the ladder and watching Steve.

Steve frowned a little and turned around, heading straight back to the dock instead of going around again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he slowed to a stop in front of Bucky.

“You’re really good,” Bucky said instead of answering.

Steve smiled. “Thanks. Everything okay? Are the skates not sharp enough? Laces too short?”

“Uh, no.” Bucky looked down again. He paused, glanced at his feet again, and then he sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

“I have no idea,” he said, giving Steve flat look. “I don’t know how to skate.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment, and then started to laugh quietly. Bucky’s face went from a little bleak to thunderous in a moment, and Steve forced himself to stop.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to stop smiling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. I didn’t--I just--but you’re such a good dancer.”

“Yeah, in shoes,” Bucky said, looking at Steve like he was an idiot. “On the ground. Not on questionably frozen water with knives strapped to my feet.”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing that time. “The ice has never broken in the last 15 years, I don’t think you need to worry. But why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky’s face cleared a little but he looked away, shrugging. “You seemed really excited. I just thought I could wing it.”

Steve bit his lips to stop himself from laughing again. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds right?”

“ _Yes,_ I am aware, thank you,” Bucky said, aggrieved. “I just didn’t want you to--not, because of me, or something.”

Steve paused. That was...really sweet. Steve’s smile went softer, even as he said, “I would probably have gone without you.”

He pushed himself forward before Bucky could answer, closing the last few feet of space between them. He set his hands on Bucky’s arms where they were wrapped around the pole of the ladder, tugging at them.

“You know what this means right?” he said. Bucky looked down at his hands and back up at Steve, the most unsure that Steve had ever seen him. He shook his head.

“Means I get to teach you.” Steve smiled, getting Bucky’s arms unwrapped and taking his hands.

“And I get my revenge for the dancing.”

Bucky’s face went blank for a moment, and then he groaned.

“You _liked_ the dancing!” he said, but he wasn’t resisting as Steve moved them slowly away from the dock, skating backwards and pulling Bucky along with him.

“I did not say that,” Steve said. He let them stop when they were a few feet away, nothing for Bucky to grab except Steve. “But you’re right, I did,” he added. “And you’ll like ice skating. It’s fun, and I’ll help you.”

Bucky sighed, but he stayed there, clutching Steve’s hands tightly. “Fine.”

They had a lot to learn, because Bucky had somehow grown up in New York and managed to literally never go ice skating. Turned out no one in his family knew either, and they just never bothered to try. Bucky was clearly nervous, gripping Steve’s hands tightly even after Steve reassured him that falling wasn’t really a big deal. Steve suspected it had more to do with Buck’s pride than any fear for his safety. He kept his mouth shut.

Bucky finally started to relax once he got the hang of balancing on one skate with Steve pulling him along, enough that he finally allowed Steve to slowly demonstrate skating forwards while Bucky watched, arms out to the sides a little even though he wasn’t moving at all. It was ridiculously cute.

“See how the tip of the skate is kind of serrated?” Steve said, lifting his foot to show Bucky. Bucky’s eyes got big.

“Put your foot down! I see it!”

Steve forced himself not to smile.

“Right, so that’s what you want to push off with, mostly. So you have to kind of...flick your ankle, lift the foot, and then bring it back down. Watch.”

Steve moved back so he was at a slight angle facing Bucky, with enough room to push forward a few times. He did so slowly while Bucky watched his feet, squinting and tilting his head. Steve stopped in front of him, smiling.

“You wanna try?”

“Do it again,” Bucky said. “But go the other way first.”

Steve nodded and turned, heading back to where he’d started from, then repeated his short journey.

“Remember to keep your knees bent,” Steve said. “And push off with the toe, but kind of to the side. It isn’t like walking, you can’t just move your foot straight back. C’mon, give it a shot.”

“Show me one more time?” Bucky asked, smiling. Steve was about to turn and go when he saw the little flash in Bucky’s eyes and he stopped. He squinted at Bucky for a moment.

“Did you even watch or were you just staring at my butt?”

Bucky’s smile twitched, growing just a little. “I would never.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Steve started to laugh. “You’re awful,” he said. “And I would absolutely push you if you wouldn’t fall over. Now come on, asshole, time to try to ice skate.”

Bucky sighed, beleaguered, but took the hand Steve offered. “I think I deserve at least a little look,” he said.

“Not until you try,” Steve told him, coming around to stand next to him.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. “After?”

Steve shook his head, grinning. “Maybe. Now come on, right foot out and back a little, weight on the left, bend your knee…”

He coached Bucky through his first very slow turn around the pond. He was shaky and held Steve’s hand tightly the whole way, but by halfway through the second round he was a little more sure of the motion, his pushes less awkward and the gliding more stable. Carol and Rhodey were watching from the dock as they drank some cocoa from a thermos, probably spiked liberally with rum.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Bucky said, looking away from the ice to smile at Steve broadly. Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling back, or the little flutter in his stomach at the joy on Bucky’s face.

“You’re doing great!” He squeezed Bucky’s hand. His grip had gotten a lot looser. “And you look good doing it, huh?”

Steve really had no idea where that came from, but it gave him the pleasure of watching Bucky blush and look back down at his shoes.

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “Probably look like a bit dumb next to you.”

“So, no change there,” Steve said, unable to resist the shot.

Bucky looked at him with fake outrage. “Rude! I am extremely smart, thank you, and your whole--”

He cut off with a gasp as his left skate came down onto the ice wrong, making him stumble a little. He wavered, hand tightening on Steve’s, tilting forwards while the other arm flailed out. For a moment Steve thought he might get his balance back, then Bucky’s eyes got wide as he overcorrected and went careening backwards with a yelp, arm still windmilling and his hand still gripping Steve’s tight.

Steve probably didn’t have much chance of not falling, with Bucky’s entire weight pulling him down, but then Bucky’s skate hit Steve’s and that was it. Steve went right down with him with a shout, managing to catch himself some with the hand Bucky wasn’t holding. Bucky hit the ice on his butt with a thump and a curse, then cursed again when Steve’s hand slipped and he went to his elbow, crashing right onto Bucky’s chest and flattening them both to the ice.

They just laid there for a minute, both of them catching their breath.

“Ow,” Bucky said finally. “I thought you said it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Steve started to giggle and lifted himself up enough to smile at Bucky. “Well usually I have both hands free to catch myself. And I don’t have someone fall on top of me.”

Bucky huffed and reached up with his free hand to flick Steve on the forehead. It lost some of its force with the expensive, soft leather gloves Bucky was wearing.

“Guess my balance isn’t good enough to have arguments yet,” Bucky said.

Steve laughed harder. “I won’t make fun of you then,” he said. “Gotta let you concentrate.”

“You shouldn’t make fun of me anyway,” Bucky said, sticking his lip out in a pout. “That was _mean._ I’m heartbroken.”

“I’ll make it up to you?” he said, a little breathless once again, and his eyes flicked to Bucky’s mouth without Steve really telling them to.

He kissed Bucky before he could respond, pulling that pouting lower lip between his teeth for a moment. Bucky made a surprised noise, then brought the hand that had flicked Steve’s forehead up, heavy and a little clumsy with the glove. The other hand tightened again on Steve’s where they were twined together on the ice.

Their lips slotted together just as well as they had last night, as they had all week, and Steve was just as ready to get lost in it, in the smell of Bucky and the feel of his stubble and his strong body under Steve’s. Steve’s next breath came out as a little moan, and Bucky returned it, pressing up into Steve with his lips and body.

“Hey, lovebirds!”

The shout made them both jump, Steve pulling back and sitting up as much as he could with ice skates in the way. Bucky’s hand landed high up on Steve’s thigh and he just blinked at Steve, slightly stunned, his lips redder than his cheeks or his nose.

Steve tore his eyes away and looked around. Rhodey and Carol were still sitting on the dock, watching them, Carol with her hands cupped around her mouth. Steve had forgotten they were there.

“How about you come get some cocoa and make out someplace less cold?”

Rhodey nudged her with an elbow, but he was laughing. Steve’s face got warm and he scrambled to push himself off of Bucky and up. He dug his toe pick into the ice, leaning down to offer Bucky a hand. Bucky blinked at it for a moment, then reached up and let Steve help him to his feet.

“Someplace a little less cold?” Bucky suggested as he got his balance back. He didn’t let go of Steve’s hand.

Steve blushed harder and smiled, looking at his skates and licking his lips. “Cocoa first.” Bucky sighed, and Steve laughed. “Come on, it’s got rum in it.”

Bucky hummed appreciatively and allowed Steve to lead them slowly over to the dock. “Still think I’d rather head inside,” he murmured just as they reached the Carol and Rhodey.

Steve laughed and shook his head. He accepted a mug of cocoa from Rhodey and thought about all the reasons that was a bad idea instead of how much he wanted to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMOOCHIN
> 
> once again feel free to let me know if the joke in the first scene is in poor taste! just, y'know, try to be nice
> 
> you can come hang out on [the blue hellsite](http://lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com) if you're still around. until it finally implodes that's pretty much the only social media i'm active on


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